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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480038">Playing God</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/among_the_wildflowers/pseuds/among_the_wildflowers'>among_the_wildflowers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bandom, Fall Out Boy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Medical, M/M, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Strangers to Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, lots of emotions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:16:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480038</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/among_the_wildflowers/pseuds/among_the_wildflowers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone wants to marry a doctor, the issue with that is that half of the medical workforce doesn't have time for sleep or food, nevermind a healthy relationship. Pete came to terms with the fact that he'd be a bachelor for the rest of his life years ago. He talked to people all day at work, he didn't need anything outside of that. He was content with that, until a neonatal surgeon named Patrick comes into his life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Due to the nature of this fic, there will be discussion of medicine, surgery, and death. Nothing too gory, but if that's going to make you uncomfortable wither skip those sections or this fic.<br/>Also, I'm not a doctor please don't take any medical advice from me I'm just here for a good time.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Paging Dr. Wentz to the O.R.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed, leaning over the railing before tossing his paper coffee cup into the trash. “You too?” Dr. Hayley Williams asked, jogging up to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never a dull moment,” he said as he walked with her towards the operating room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you hear the news?” She asked, tucking her platinum blonde hair into her scrubs cap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About the primie triplets or the kid who swallowed the lego pieces?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” She looked at him as she backed through the door “Dr. Rowe’s replacement starts today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He raised an eyebrow as he put his surgical gown on “have you met him yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before she could get a chance to answer, they were interrupted by the sound of a monitor picking up “shit,” she muttered “I’ll fill you in later. Now, you have a clot in the subclavian artery to remove,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He followed her into the operating room where interns already had the patient prepped “this patient who came in for-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Numbness, swelling clammy hands,” one of the interns said, adjusting the lights. “Confirmed for Arterial thoracic outlet syndrome this morning, Dr. Wentz,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, let’s make this the last surgery this woman has to have for a while. Scalpel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest was muscle memory. Of course, there was always a level of nerves when operating on someone but Pete knew what he was doing. He was one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the state for a reason. There was always a chance that something could go wrong. Patients sometimes plummet without warning. Something could throw him off. Complications arise. He’d done this surgery a thousand times but that didn’t mean that this wouldn’t be the time when things suddenly changed. Luckily, this wasn’t one of these times. He discarded his gloves and gown before joining Hayley back in the hallway “alright, new doctor? Have you met him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Walk with me, if I spend any longer on my feet I think they’ll fall off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugged as he followed her “you’re in the right place at least.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, so, I haven’t met him, but I heard that he got transferred from out of state, and-” she pulled him into the on-call room “and - I heard this from some of my interns while they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be making rounds but apparently he’s very cute,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s entirely inappropriate, Dr. Williams,” he joked, sitting down on one of the beds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is exciting news, I’m tired of being the one attractive person in this hospital,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your life is so awful,” he sighed, sliding down onto the bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m aware, what time do you go off call?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete opened one eye and looked at her “you go off call still?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what I mean. You want to get a drink later?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t,” Pete sighed, throwing one arm over his eyes to block the light “I have too many patients in bad condition right now, I don’t want to get paged in drunk,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never said we were getting drunk,” she countered before a beeping filled the room. Both of them instinctively sat up and checked their pagers. “You?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got up and nodded, pausing in the doorway before he left “I’ll see you around?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled and looked up at him “I’ve got a surgery consult in a half hour. If you’re fast you might catch me,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scoffed “we’ll see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Wentz?” one of Pete’s inters, a timid French Canadian who Pete was rather fond of, asked as he jogged up the hallway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If this isn’t about the Wright kid or an emergency, I have somewhere to be, Burnet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Wright,” he handed Pete a chart “he’s been complaining about abdominal pain, I thought it was because of the - um -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Legos, yeah, keep going,” Pete supplemented, dodging a group of nurses while looking over the chart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. And it’s been getting worse, but he’s still only under observation,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well if the legos punctured his intestine, we’re operating now.” He stopped Bernet outside the patient’s room “you up for that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bernet nodded, though his already pale face had gone even whiter “I can do that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Pete said before walking into the room. He clenched his jaw seeing how the 5-year-old boy was visibly in pain, his knees pulled up to his chest as he laid in bed. Kids were always hard. “Hi there, Devin,” he said in his calmest and friendliest voice which he reserved for kids “what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nurse checking his monitor looked up “his abdominal pain has been getting worse and he said he was dizzy, his blood pressure’s down,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Pete said quickly “where are his parents?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mom’s in the cafeteria, I’ve got people looking for her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete crouched down beside the bed “hey, Devin, can you sit up real straight for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The child slowly unfurled his legs, chewing his lip “is Mom here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s on her way right now, but it’s really important that we make sure those legos aren’t stuck in your stomach. This might be a little cold, okay? I’m just going to see how your stomach’s doing,” he said. He looked back to the nurse when he saw the bruising on his stomach “call his dad and page Dr. Nezar and Flynn. He’s bleeding.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete didn’t always get to know his patients well but he’d met Devin Wright and his parents a few times since he’d been checked in that morning. He’d swallowed a handful of legos while his parents had stepped out of the room, they’d felt awful about leaving him alone for even the few minutes it had taken for him to start chewing things. It was easy for this job to get to people. Especially while taking a scared 5-year-old into the operating room for surgery.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two of Pete’s other interns had joined him by the time they got there. None of them had done a surgery like this before and part of Pete’s job as a surgical resident was teaching the interns. “Based on his x rays, we’ve got 6 lego pieces to find and remove. We’re going to try and do this fast, he’s already been bleeding so we’re moving fast. If you’re not up for it now, tell me now,” He glanced at the interns before putting his surgical mask on when no one said anything “good. When you find a piece, open, dispose of in the tray, close. Got it?” He was met with nods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he walked into the operating room, Devin was already unconscious and prepped for surgery. His interns had better not mess this up.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. and Mrs. Wright?” Pete said, walking into the waiting room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An anxious-looking couple immediately stood up, their hands clasped together so tightly that Pete was sure it had to hurt “please tell me he’s okay,” the woman whispered. She’d clearly been crying, her eyes red and the bags under them were raw from rubbing them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m happy to let you know that Devin is stable and should be waking up in a few minutes,” Pete said. Talking to family members wasn’t always this easy. Pete tried to savour the times when it was, it helped him not lose it the other times.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman burst back into tears which she’d clearly been holding back before sitting back down, the husband wiped his eyes on the collar of his already stretched out and wet t-shirt before reaching out to shake Pete’s hand “thank you,” he said before clearing his throat, though it didn’t do much to alleviate how his voice was shaky and slightly horse “when can we see him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can see him now if you want.” He continued talking as both parents got up to follow him “he’s probably going to be drowsy for a while and I’m going to send a nurse in to brief you on what comes next with making sure his recovery goes smoothly.” Pete watched for a minute as the parents saw Devin asleep and comfortable again and rushed in to see him. He needed another coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete had a short break after wrapping things up with the Wright family. He decided to take a shower since he had done several operations since he’d come into work at 4 that morning. He closed his eyes as he scrubbed the latex from his gloves off of his hands, waiting for the lingering uneasy feeling of having his hands inside someone to subside. He knew what he was doing, he’d been doing it for over 10 years, but the stress still got to him sometimes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ran a bar of soap up his arm, pausing when he heard a locker open and then voices.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you get to watch the c-section this morning?” someone said. The voice sounded familiar but he couldn’t place it. Not that it was any of his business.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I wish, I was running rounds. What was up with her?” said a second voice. This one Pete didn’t recognize.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The mom had a tumor and they had to be delivered early before they could operate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I admit something?” There was a soft laugh and presumably a nod before she continued “do you think it’s prejudiced that I assumed Dr. Stump was going to be a woman?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Personally, I think it’s kind of creepy when guys become OB/GYNs.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think he’s just doing it to-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other woman cut her off “shut up - I don’t mean him specifically. I just mean… I don’t know if I really want a guy looking all up inside my vagina.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More laughter. Pete shook his head and turned the water off. The conversation stopped abruptly. Footsteps. A locker opening. Pete wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower to get his clothes from his locker. He tried not to get too annoyed by the interns, he was one once too, but goddamn could they be annoying.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Instead of the two female doctors who Pete was expecting to see, he stepped out of the shower and saw a man he didn’t recognize. He didn’t know every single person in the hospital, but he usually at least recognized them. And this was going to be a great first impression. The mystery man was laying on his back on one of the benches, one arm across his stomach and another across his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There are comfier places to sleep, you know,” Pete joked dryly, he couldn’t help it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure about that?” The man moved his arm and opened his eyes, only to avert his eyes to look at the opposite wall “shit, sorry,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Pete chuckled “we’re all too tired and busy to be modest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How many jobs do you see all your coworkers half-naked on your first day?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete leaned back against the lockers “I presume you’re Doctor Stump then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump sat up and nodded. The glance he made over Pete’s body was subtle but Pete was watching for it. “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doctor Wentz.” Pete smiled, extending his hand that wasn’t holding his towel “general surgical resident. I heard you were an OB/GYN?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doctor Strump shook his hand and stood up. He the same height as Pete but Pete was barefoot while Doctor Stump had shoes on so he was probably slightly shorter. “OB/GYN, neonatal, I dabble.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Impressive. I guess I’ll be seeing more of you if you’re gonna be sticking around?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess so. Wentz, you said? Any chance you’re scheduled for a salpingectomy-oophorectomy tonight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled “I am, yeah,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I guess I’ll see you then.” He gestured back towards the door “I’ll let you get dressed,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See you then,” Pete said, watching Doctor Stump leave. Pete spent most of his life in the hospital, when he was at home he was usually trying to catch up on sleep or enjoy what little free time he had alone. The other doctors quickly became like family. It was always interesting seeing a newcomer join that family. And Doctor Stump had already caused a bit of a stir with the other doctors.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what are your weekend plans?” Hayley asked, picking at her salad. They’d been eating lunch together since back when they had social lives. They’d long since run out of things to talk about. That didn’t mean Pete didn’t love his time with her, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Working. You?” He asked as he dumped a sugar packet into his coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Besides that,” she rolled her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s it. I’ve got a surgery with the new doctor, though,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked up, clearly interested “oh? Anything interesting?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shrugged “salpingectomy-oophorectomy,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Interesting. Ovarian cancer?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Anything interesting with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not really,” she sighed as she tried to stab a carrot with her plastic fork “are you seeing Jude this weekend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete clenched his jaw and shook his head before taking a bite of his apple. If anyone else had asked, he’d be mad. Hayley got about 20 get-out-of-jail-free passes when it came to even the touchiest of subjects “next weekend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” she said quietly “sorry, easy to lose track of time, y’know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was easy for her. Pete counted down the hours. “I get it, it’s fine.” He said instead “is it horrible that I want something awful to happen so we can get something to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled and looked back up at him “we have this conversation every day. Yes, it’s awful and we’re terrible people. Me too, though. Speaking of which, did you hear that Nancy got discharged?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Spinal fusion Nancy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s the one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good for her,” Pete said sincerely “she kept trying to set me up with her daughter. Sweet lady, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was her daughter cute? I never met her?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled before tossing his apple core into the trash “neither did I. Missed connections, I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could have been fate. What time is your surgery tonight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“11. You still gonna be around then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. Let me know how it goes?” she asked before standing up “I should go check on Steve. He keeps saying he’s dying, but I’m pretty sure it’s just GERD,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled “try not to fight with any patients.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No promises,”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you done this before?” Dr. Stump asked as Pete walked into the OR.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete blinked and was glad for the surgical mask because his jaw nearly dropped “I didn’t get my medical degree yesterday,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump’s eyes shifted to him and then went wide “I-” he stammered “I was talking to Dr. Nezar,” he said, gesturing to Pete’s intern who was scrubbing in for this surgery.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete swallowed and clenched one fist for a second, regaining his composure. Now that his anger had passed, he had time to feel embarrassed at his mistake “I apologize for the misunderstanding, Dr. Stump,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have no doubt you’re a competent surgeon, Dr. Wentz, but perhaps now isn’t the time for this, now that you’re here we have an ovary to remove,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Stump is right,” Pete said, pushing aside his embarrassment in order to focus on his work. He hadn’t expected being a surgeon to be a soothing practice, and it wasn’t for the most part, but Pete’s overactive mind sometimes required a task that he couldn’t stray from. He didn’t know exactly what his next step would be socially in order to make sure that no one ever talked about the previous interaction again, but he did know how to perform an oophorectomy. He couldn’t think about anything besides making sure everything that happened was done properly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you feel comfortable closing her up, Dr. Nezar?” Pete asked, finally allowing himself to relax.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the opportunity, Dr. Wentz, yes,” the younger doctor said quickly. He was clearly nervous. Pete had been there before. He checked the patient’s vitals before nodding for Dr. Nezar to continue. He briefly met Dr. Stump’s eyes. He had kind eyes. Not the kind of person who would question the qualifications of everyone around him. There were plenty of arrogant pricks in the medical field. Pete couldn’t imagine Dr. Stump was one of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked back to the patient’s vitals. He wouldn’t let himself get distracted yet. He’d have time to think later.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete pretty much fell into bed as soon as he got back home. He didn’t bother to turn the lights on or anything, just kicked off his shoes and went straight to bed. He would have fallen asleep right away if it weren’t for the huffing that started from below the bed. He sighed and rolled over to look down at the floor where a very old and slobbery bulldog was looking at him expectantly. “Hey, Hemmy,” he said, smiling tiredly before reaching down to pick the dog up and pull him onto the bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How was your day?” He asked, scratching behind the dog’s ears. Hemingway only snorted in response. “That good, huh?” He wiped goop from the corners of the dog’s eyes and kissed his head “well, I took someone’s ovary out, removed a bullet, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> snapped at my new coworker. You don’t even know how lucky you are, lil’ guy. You just get to sleep and eat all day,” he yawned “speaking of which,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, his hours of sleep deprivation quickly catching up with him as he could even feel himself falling asleep. He was jolted back to reality by the sound of the doorbell ringing followed by Hemmingway jumping up and launching himself towards the hallway with as much energy as his old body and tiny legs could give him. “This had better be good,” Pete sighed, rubbing his face as he swung his legs off the bed and walked into the hallway towards the front of the house. “I’m coming, hold on,” he muttered as he walked, only for the doorbell to ring again, “I said I-” he fell silent as he opened the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aiden?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Pete, can I come in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um - “ Pete stammered dumbly before pitching the bridge of his eyes “what’s this about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jude says he forgot some stuff. I just wanted to pick it up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you couldn’t text first instead of just showing up at my door?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The taller man sighed and ran a hand through his blonde hair. He hadn’t started dying it until recently. Pete never did like blondes anyway “I did text. You didn’t answer. So I’m here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was working. And you know if it’s an emergency you can call the hospital.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be so dramatic, Pete,” Aiden scoffed “you know I hate doing that, and it’s not an emergency, I just need to grab a few things. Plus if you hadn’t changed the locks-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed and stepped aside “I changed the locks because my keys got stolen, you know that. Just get what you need. I’ve got work in a few hours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course you do,” Aiden said knowingly as he stepped inside and walked into the guest room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you at least tell me what you’re looking for?” Pete asked, closing the door behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing important. Clothes and stuff,” he picked up a bag from the closet “I’ll get out of your way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t act like that, Aiden, I’m not kicking you out I’m just…” he trailed off because he kind of was kicking him out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Pete. I’ll see you later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Pete said as he walked Aiden out “you too,” he swallowed as he closed the door behind him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow so many mysteries I guess you'll have to keep reading and see what happens!</p><p>Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story. As always I LOVE getting comments. They keep me motivated to post even when things get crazy. See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you missed a Toxoplasma gondii removal,” Hayley scoffed, practically shoving a set of files into Pete’s hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, I was sleeping, it was my offtime, and it wasn’t an emergency that involved me,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was in his </span>
  <em>
    <span>brain</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Pete,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I’m not a neurosurgeon if you recall,” he said, flipping through the papers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you don’t even want to hear about how it went? We removed a parasite from a man’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>brain,</span>
  </em>
  <span> how cool is that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got a liver transplant in a half hour and I am exhausted but I promise you I will hear all about your parasite at lunch,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s up with you? You’d never miss something like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we talk about this later, Hayley?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me that you’re at least okay first?” Hayley asked, her face quickly turning from frustration to concern.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m alright, I just really need to get this transplant done and get back into the swing of things. This is what I get for not coming in yesterday.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest “don’t punish yourself for a day off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re the one telling me to come in to see a parasite removal, Dr. Williams,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To watch not to stress yourself off, love, what is going on with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete checked his watch and feigned surprise “you know, Hayley, this has been super fun, but I want to have time to grab a snack before I scrub in but I promise, I will catch up with you for lunch, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This conversation isn’t over, Pete!” She called after him as he took off down the hallway, turning around just before he turned a corner to wave and make sure she wasn’t following. He loved Hayley and usually he’d tell her just about anything but he couldn’t get through a conversation about Aiden coming by. The truth was he was planning on watching the surgery but he hadn’t had much energy for getting out of bed to feed Hemmingway, nevermind getting himself into work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t do that today, so he was going to compartmentalize and not think about it. He wasn’t going to think about how close he’d been to having a perfect life and then how he’d lost it all so quickly. He was going to think about a liver transplant at 6:30 AM and then a gallbladder removal at 9:15 AM and then a bariatric surgery at 2:30 and then an appendectomy at 5:05 and then a Cystoscopy at 7:40 and then a c-section at 10:00 and then an abscess removal at 12:15 and then an Arterio switch operation on 2:30. He didn’t have to think about anything else until then. And by then he’d be too tired to think about anything so he could just go to bed and do it all again tomorrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Wentz, can I scrub in on your transplant today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete turned back around to see Dr. Burnet walking along beside him “have you done one before?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two. Both successful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then yes. Get Dr. Russel as well until then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head as the eager intern thanked him and disappeared down the hallway. For a moment he had even forgotten about the other day. Perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. No more avoiding me.” Hayley said as she sat down for lunch “spill.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I first just bring up the irony of your lunch choices considering you just got done with a patient undergoing diabetic shock?” Pete asked, trying to change the subject as he gestured to her stack of candy bars and peanut butter sandwiches from the vending machine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up. Talk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So much for that plan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, fine, I’m sorry for judging your lunch,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pete, I swear to god,” she sighed before visibly getting an idea “I’ll give you a chocolate bar if you tell me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I would have told you anyway but if you insist,” he took a deep breath before leaning back “Aiden showed up the other day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley’s eyes widened and she dropped her sandwich onto the table “oh my god.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not as exciting as you think. He just barged in and picked up some of Jude’s stuff and it was really awkward and sad and then I got depressed and didn’t get out of bed the next day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus. I can’t believe that. He’s such a dick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s not that bad,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s a little… abrasive, but he was also my husband, Hayley, and he wasn’t entirely unjustified in leaving me,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyone who leaves you ever is an idiot,” Hayley shrugged and elbowed him gently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was never home, and all things considered I was lucky I got to keep Hemmy,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t justify it,” she said, moving over to lean against him “you’re a catch,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you marry me then? We could get some great tax benefits,” he joked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes “tell you what, my favourite little homosexual, if we’re both single by the time we’re 60, we’ll get married,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perfect. I’d look great in a wedding dress.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley nearly fell off the bench laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete was finishing off his fourth cup of coffee for the day as he walked into the scrub room “Dr. Stump, good to see you again,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump looked up from the monitor and pushed his glasses up “you as well, Dr. Wentz. Want to ask me if I’ve performed a c-section before so we can be even?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take a rain check on that, I’m not feeling particularly spiteful but the day may come,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump smiled “I’ll take that. I have another offer, if you want,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Depends on what it is, but I’ll hear you out,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick chuckled as he put his gloves on “can I buy you a drink to make up for it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete raised an eyebrow “yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that a yeah as in yes I’ll go or yeah as in why is this strange man asking me for a drink and how do I tell him no?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Former,” Pete smiled “I get off at about 4 AM tonight, so maybe another night, but yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can work out times when there isn’t a baby that we need to deliver, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good point, perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Hayley said as she pulled a chair up beside Pete.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I’ve just been hanging out in here between calls,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I figured,” she glanced to the incubator, “this the one you delivered today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Her name’s Jessibelle,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley leaned her head on Pete’s shoulder “I still remember when Jude was this little,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this a bad time for me to mention that Jessibelle is only 35 weeks?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley smiled and squeezed Pete’s hand “okay, maybe not exactly that little, but you know what I mean,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I remember too,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Simpler times,” Hayley chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was the one living with an infant, simpler isn’t the word I would go with.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, good point,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crazy part is how I somehow still know what you mean,” he admitted, pursing his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Overloading yourself with surgeries so you don’t have to think isn’t working then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not as well as I was hoping. Dr. Stump asked me out for drinks, though,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat up suddenly and turned to him “wait, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span> out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know yet,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley sighed and pressed her face into Pete’s shoulder “well find out. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in forever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete looked back at the sleeping baby in the incubator “as soon as I find out, I’ll let you know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley looked back at the incubator and smiled “do you think she’ll grow up to be a doctor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled “god, for her sake, I hope not.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! Sorry it's a few days late but I had to move really suddenly and I've only just not gotten settled again. As always, I love your comments because they make me smile and keep me motivated to write so don't hesitate to leave some, even if they're short or you've left one before. See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warning for child loss and death of minor unnamed characters. I'll leave a summary at the end of the chapter if you'd rather not read this chapter. This is all just for fun so do what you need to do to be okay.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey, kiddo,” Pete smiled, sitting down on the bench outside the hospital. The air was still bitterly cold but Pete had lived in Chicago all his life and could handle it. He needed to get away from the listening ears of the hospital’s patients and staff and the smell of cleaning supplies and cheap coffee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Dad,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s school going?” he asked even though he knew what answer he was going to get.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Learn anything cool?” he said before he could stop himself, realizing that was definitely not the right thing to say to a 10-year-old.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not really,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed and leaned his head back, looking up at the grey sky “your, um, your dad says you’re trying out for the baseball team?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was last month,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete squeezed his eyes shut. Had it been that long ago? He could have sworn it was just a week or so ago. “Was it? I thought - well, anyway. How did it go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete relaxed slightly, nodding. That was progress. “That’s awesome, kiddo, do you like it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not really. The other kids are a lot better than me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not what Pete was hoping for but at least he could work with it. He was talking. “I never even made it onto a baseball team at all, so I think it’s pretty cool that you’re on the team,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So are you doing anything fun tonight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just homework, and dad and I are going to order pizza and watch Transformers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled even though he knew Jude was probably being made to talk to him by Aiden. He appreciated the effort. He hoped some part of Jude appreciated it too. “I’m sorry I can't be there with you. That sounds fun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, dad. I know you’re busy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This weekend we’ll do whatever you want, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Um, dad wants me to come pick out pizza toppings so, um, I’m gonna go,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sausage, peppers, mushrooms, and olives, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad always forgets,” Jude laughed. It was good to hear their laugh, even soft and muffled and through the phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got a pretty good memory,” Pete smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We don’t get olives anymore though since we… you know…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shut his eyes and grit his teeth, hoping Jude couldn’t hear the pain in his voice. He knew they’d been divorced for almost a year but sometimes it just hit him so hard. “Right. Your dad always pretended he liked them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d never pretend to like olives for someone,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete laughed through a clenched jaw “that’s what you do when you love someone I guess,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jude hesitated for a second before a muffled and staticky yell came through the phone speaker “okay! I’m coming! Sorry, dad wants me to come out now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell him I say hi, okay? I’ll see you this weekend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, bye, dad,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” Pete said, closing his eyes and hoping for the reply that he knew wouldn’t come.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Dad,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The line went dead as Jude hung up. Pete had expected it but it never made it feel any better. Jude had never fully forgiven either of them. Pete had wanted to keep them together but Aiden had insisted. He’d been ready to move on. Pete had been a pretty terrible husband, he couldn’t blame him for hating him. Pete sat on the bench until he started to lose feeling in his fingers. He needed his fingers to be able to do his work. That’s what he had left, he at least needed to be good at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no real downtime for surgeons. Pete hadn’t even gotten his coat off before he heard the sirens then the sound of multiple pagers going off simultaneously. There were scheduled surgeries and then there were the unexpected traumas that interrupted everything. Pete needed the distraction, though. He practically ran into the group of other doctors as he ran through the doors back outside to where the ambulances had pulled up. “Move,” he pushed one of the shocked interns aside and opened the ambulance door “what have we got?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Head On collision, 4 car pileup,” said one of the paramedics as they pushed the gurney out of the ambulance and to Pete “42-year-old female. She’s got two broken ribs and her right lung is punctured, we lost her pulse at the scene. She’s 8 months pregnant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Russel, Dr. Cramer. You’re with me. Someone page Dr. Stump to OR 1.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete knew how to do this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That didn’t mean it was always good, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Time of death 4:35 PM.” Pete said as he pulled off his gloves and tossed them away, his nails leaving scratches along his hands as he washed them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Wentz?” Dr. Russel, one of Pete’s newest interns asked as they joined him. Pete couldn’t help but notice the way his hands shook as he washed the blood off of his hands. Gloves and scrubs only did so much in times like this. “Does it get easier?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Losing a patient?” Pete asked. He pursed his lips and dried his hands off “no, Dr. Russel, it never does.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Great. Okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want it to be easy.” Dr. Stump said as he walked into the scrub room “that’s when you’ve lost your humanity.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Dr. Wentz? Can I go do charts until I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine. Take your time,” Pete watched him go before looking at Dr. Stump as he leaned against the sinks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ever think it’d be easier to lose your humanity?” Dr. Stump asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Every day,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump nodded and sighed “well, if you’d excuse me, I should go call her husband.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you don’t want me to do that?” Pete offered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got it, Dr. Wentz. You should probably make sure your intern is okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete tossed his scrub cap off “thank you, Dr. Stump. Good luck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley didn’t have to ask if Pete was okay. She knew better. She would have heard by now. Instead, she tossed a packaged banana nut muffin at him and sat down beside him in the gallery. “Eat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not hungry,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eat anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a bitch,” he sighed, opening the bag anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, whatever. What do you need?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A drink.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She leaned her head on his shoulder “then why are we here watching Dr. Levy perform open heart surgery?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because my intern is assisting him and it is my job to be here,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Nezzar will do just fine if you come with me to get a drink. Dr. Levy never lets the interns do anything anyway. You know that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hate it when you’re right,” Pete sighed, leaning his elbows against his knees and putting his chin on his knuckles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley rubbed his shoulder before standing up “come on, we’ll have you back in a few hours. And you’ll have processed stuff and you’ll feel better and you’ll rock your Whipple procedure tonight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes and shook his head before taking her hand and standing up “alright, you’ve convinced me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I always do,” she smiled as she took his arm and walked him out of the room “and you’ve got Jude this weekend, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded, clenching his jaw.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s good. I just wish they liked me more.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They love you, they’re just 10 and 10-year-olds are like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a lot more optimistic than me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s only because you’re a raging pessimist,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how you’re not anymore.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Summary: Pete calls Jude, who is rather uncommunicative and Pete worried that they hate him after his divorce with Aiden. Pete and Dr. Stump have a particularly rough surgery which results in them not being able to save the patient. Hayley takes Pete out for drinks to help him relax.</p><p>Thank you for reading! Things won't always be this dark I promise! I love reading all your comments because they make my day and keep me motivated so feel free to keep leaving them! I've loved all the support! See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Dr. Stump, good to see you again,” Pete said as he walked up to the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Under much better circumstances, God willing,” Dr. Stump smiled and extended his hand for Pete to shake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his hand and smiled as he tapped the patient’s door with one knuckle  “knock on wood,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re very clever,” Dr. Stump chuckled as he opened the door, stepping inside “hello there Mrs. Harper. Mr. Harper. This is my colleague, Dr. Wentz, he’s a fantastic general surgeon and he’s going to assist with your c-section today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The heavily pregnant woman sat up slightly in the hospital bed and shook both doctors’ hands before her husband did the same. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Wentz. And I’m awake for the whole thing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be conscious but won’t feel any of it, don’t worry,” Pete said, looking over the women’s chart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Before we get started, I’m going to do a quick exam if that’s alright with you.” Dr. Stump said, pulling over a stool and sitting down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s fine, whatever gets my baby out fastest,” she said, clearly hiding pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll just be a few minutes, I promise,” Dr. Stump reassured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The patient gasped and Pete looked up quickly from her charts “sorry,” she whispered, looking at the ceiling “your hands are cold,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump laughed and flicked his eyes up to their patient and then to Pete “my husband says the same thing,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re married?” She asked, tension still in her voice but less so now that she had a distraction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have been for 3 years now,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re celebrating our 6 year anniversary in two months,” the patient’s husband said, taking her hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you married, Dr. Wentz?” she asked, looking up at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete forced a smile “haven’t met the one yet,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Patrick interrupted “everything looks fine down here, let’s get that baby out, alright? Dr. Wentz and I will get everything set up and we’ll get you into the operating room in not too long,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete followed Dr. Stump out of the room “I didn’t know you were married,” he observed as the door closed behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not,” Dr. Stump said casually as they walked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete furrowed his eyebrows “you lied?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, when I had a husband he said I had cold hands,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Pete said, pursing his lips “sorry I brought it up,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t bring it up, Dr. Wentz, I did, now stop worrying,” he looked to the nurse’s station “page Dr. Hannah and Dr. Greene to OR 3.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And… husband?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump stopped walking and turned to Pete “is that an issue for you, Dr. Wentz?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete’s eyes widened and he put his hands up, palms open “that’s not what I meant, I -” he paused, not knowing where he was going with that “I also have an ex-husband. And cold hands. And apparently a communication issue.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump shook his head, looking away as he tried to suppress a smile “let’s not keep Mrs. Harper waiting any longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, Hayley, I am begging you to give me five minutes,” Pete groaned as the on-call room filled with light as the door opened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not quite, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete moved his arm to open one eye “Dr. Stump,” he sat up and stood his head to try and wake himself up “can I help you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I left my wallet somewhere and I just hope it wasn’t in a patient,” he said flatly as he kneeled beside Pete’s bed to look under it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete blinked at him “please tell me you’re kidding,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump glanced up and him and smiled “I’m kidding. I had it in my pocket, took a nap, now it’s not there,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete relaxed, laying back down “glad to hear it. The wallet not being in a patient part, not the wallet not being in your pocket thing. Want a hand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump sat up, holding a leather wallet between his index and middle fingers “no need. Enjoy your nap.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled before closing his eyes again “goodnight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello Dr. Williams,I was just heading out,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete groaned and rolled onto his stomach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good to see you, Dr. Stump, can I just say that the Ureteroplasty you performed this morning was very impressive. I’m going to take sloppy seconds on Dr. Wentz if you don’t mind,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh I-I don’t mean to - we didn’t -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s kidding, Dr. Stump. And I’m sleeping. Or I was until we started partying in my on-call room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Dr. Williams. Dr. Wentz,” Dr. Stump said before Pete heard his footsteps leaving and felt Hayley lay down beside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… you and Dr. Stump…” she snickered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up,” he rolled his eyes and threw the blanket over her “why are you here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I missed you and I felt like bugging you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so annoying,” he smiled “thank you for making our coworker think that we’re sleeping together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Any time. That’s what friends are for. So what are your plans this weekend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stroked her hair “whatever Jude wants to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a really really good dad, you know that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete looked at her for a second and hummed “what happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it that obvious?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You climbed into bed with me and you’re talking about parenting,” Pete smiled, pulling her closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed and put her head on his chest “I really thought I could make him walk again… and he’s still paralyzed. And will be for the rest of his life. And it sucks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed and nodded “yeah. It sucks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete hadn’t known whether he was excited for or dreading this moment for weeks. He never did. But as he pulled his car in front of the elementary school, locked eyes with a child with his brown eyes and hair they’d dyed with kool-aid while Aiden hadn’t been watching, he wasn’t sure how he ever had been worried about this. Despite everything, Jude still got excited to see him when he picked him up from school once every two weeks. Two and a half days every two weeks. He’d take what he could get.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, dad,” Jude said, tossing two backpacks into the backseat of the car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, kid,” Pete chuckled, ruffling Jude’s streaky purple hair “how was school?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Spencer got a new game on his DS for his birthday, can he come over for a sleepover tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete figured surgery would be the most chaotic thing a person could get themselves into. He had been wrong. Having a 10-year-old was far more turbulent. “Sure, whatever you want, I’ll call his parents tonight. You want to go somewhere for dinner tonight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we get burgers and go to the beach?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled and glanced over at them while he drove “of course we can,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you do any cool surgeries? Like that time when we were in a waiting room and a guy came in with his eyeball falling out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue “I really wish you hadn’t seen that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was cool, though, everyone in class thought so too,” Jude said excitedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your teacher didn’t think so,” he chuckled “nothing like that today, though. Anything fun happen today at school?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A 4th grader put a popcorn bag in the microwave for too long and it caught on fire, the whole cafeteria had to get evacuated,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That sounds a lot more exciting than my day. How about we pick up some popcorn from the store after we go to the beach and we can have a movie night, we won’t even burn it,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jude grinned and looked at Pete “but lighting it on fire was so cool, though,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And microwaves are expensive, but maybe we can do a bonfire sometime. You’d better not grow up to be an arsonist. Your dad would kill me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jude held one hand out, their pinkie finger extended “promise not to become an arsonist,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled and wrapped his finger around Jude’s “that’s all I need to hear.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! As always I love comments so feel free to leave some if you have any thoughts about the fic so far, they always make my day and keep me motivated to keep writing. I've been having so much fun with this fic so I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am. See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I feel the need to repeat once again that I have no medical training and all of my knowledge comes from google, my friend's medical textbooks, and being in the room while my mother watches Grey's Anatomy. Please don't listen to anything I say this is all for fun.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Are you on call today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete looked up from his tray of untouched food and his medical books “Dr. Stump, good to see you, yes,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As am I. Would you mind if I sat with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not at all, I’m afraid I might not be the best company,” Pete said as he moved a stack of books off the table and onto the chair beside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just got done being screamed at after I told a 79 year old woman that she wasn’t pregnant and that she was just overweight,” Dr. Stump said as he sat down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yikes,” Pete chuckled as he glanced between Dr. Stump and his book.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Working on something?” Dr. Stump asked, gesturing to the book with his fork.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got a patient who has anterograde amnesia and I can’t figure out what’s brought it on,” Pete mumbled, scanning over the page before flipping it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not a neurosurgeon, Dr. Wentz, are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No but Dr. Gordon can’t figure it out either and is removing metastatic melanoma all day so I’m…” he sighed and put the book down “studying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump nodded, lips pursed, before reaching over to take another book off the top of the pile “let me see their chart? Two doctors who haven’t studied neurosurgery in 15 years are better than one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do that, Dr. Stump,” Pete said, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump flicked his eyes up “I’ve got nothing else to do until someone pages me so… this gives me something to do that isn’t thinking about the woman who I have to tell once she wakes up that she can never have children,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rough day?” Pete chuckled, still scanning over pages.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not the best, gotta be honest,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have any kids, Dr. Stump?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We tried, but it never took, male pregnancy rates are meager,” Patrick said dryly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled and glanced up at him “there’s this fantastic thing called adoption, Dr. Stump,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never heard of it, Dr. Wentz, you truly are a fantastic doctor. Do you have their labs with you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Pete,” he said, glancing at Dr. Stump before picking the files up off the bench and handing them to Dr. Stump.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump looked up and raised an eyebrow “the patient?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled and shook his head “my name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Stump laughed and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head “I’m sorry. Patrick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded and looked back to the book as Patrick took the file “I really do appreciate the help, Patrick,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I appreciate the distraction,” Patrick smiled, fixing his glasses “Pete,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete jumped as his pager started buzzing against his hip “I’m so sorry, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick looked up and waved him off “don’t worry about it. Go do your job.” Pete made it a few steps away before he stopped himself, turned, and exhaled slowly. “Need something, Dr. Wentz?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Drinks. Tonight?” Pete asked, suddenly aware that he was standing in the middle of the cafeteria and talking a little too loud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled again and nodded “I think I could fit you in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete grinned “okay,” he gestured towards the hallway “I, uh, I gotta go. Patients, and-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Wentz,” Patrick laughed, waving his hand to gesture for him to leave “go, I’ll page you if I figure something out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete stood for a second more before his pager started vibrating again and he turned around again to go do his job.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ate without me,” Hayley grumbled, sitting down on the floor next to Pete.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If it makes you feel better,” Pete sighed, not looking up from the book “I didn’t eat,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you already scan for early-onset dementia?” she asked, pulling her legs up to her chest to avoid tripping anyone in the hallway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I did. And neurological damage. I even did a blood test to see if she had a vitamin B deficiency for fuck’s sake.” Pete sighed, closing the medical book only to grab another and flip to the same chapter he’d already read twice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley sighed and pulled the book out of his hands “Pete, go eat. And when was the last time you slept? You haven’t even told me how your weekend was.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete glared at her and grabbed for the book only for her to extend her arm as far away as she could reach “I promise I will do all of that as soon as this woman is able to make new memories again,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She raised one eyebrow “would it be insensitive for me to bring up that she won’t remember any of this anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was about to push her when the regular bustle of the hospital moving around them became a rush of people all going in the same direction. Pete looked at Hayley before they both got up simultaneously and started pushing to the front of the crowd.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-I promise you I’ve done every test available, multiple times, and if there were a-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete turned the corner just in time to see a grey-haired woman straighten up, pull her arm back, and hit Dr. Stump in the face. Hayley jumped to the front of the crowd and grabbed the woman to pull her away from the other doctor as he stumbled back a few feet only for Pete to catch him before he hit the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, don’t you all have stuff to do?” Pete said, sending glares towards the bystanders “and someone call security,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick leaned his head back against Pete’s shoulder for a second before standing up “fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>ouch</span>
  </em>
  <span>,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete grabbed his arm and pushed him onto one of the examining tables “stop trying to walk away,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Wentz, I’m fine,” he sighed, holding one hand up to his rapidly swelling eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get me a cold compress,” he said to one of the nurses before tightening his hold on Patrick’s forearm to keep him from moving “for an 80-year-old women she’s got a hell of an arm,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re telling me,” Patrick sighed, leaning his head back against the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled and used an alcohol wipe to clean the cut under Patrick’s eye where the woman’s ring had sliced through his skin “this the one who isn’t pregnant?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick nodded and Pete grabbed his chin to keep him steady as he taped the cut shut and took out a flashlight “follow this with your eyes,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolled his eyes “Dr. Wentz, I’m fine, please just let me die of embarrassment in peace,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just do what I say,” Pete sighed, moving the light across Patrick’s eyes, watching his pupils contract, bright blue taking over black as he followed the light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have we concluded I don't have a skull fracture or a concussion?” Patrick groaned, dropping his head back against the wall as Pete let go of his chin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cold compress, Dr. Wentz,” a nurse said as she set one next to Patrick on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just hold that against your eye so you don’t look like you fight all your patients, Dr. Stump,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick sighed but did as he was told “I found something,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete took a step back and raised his eyebrows “you found something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your amnesiac patient. Did you run a tox screen?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled, looking Patrick over “you </span>
  <em>
    <span>found</span>
  </em>
  <span> something,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Check for Benzodiazepine, it’s a psy-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete furrowed his eyebrows and rubbed his forehead “a psychedelic drug,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A psychedelic drug that can cause amnesia when used in combination with Zolpidem. She was prescribed Zolpidem a month ago to help her insomnia but all it’s been doing is wiping her memory every time she takes psychedelics,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete covered his mouth with one palm as he blinked before dropping his hand and looking at the ceiling “oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Dr. Stump, I- thank you so much,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Consider us even,” Patrick sighed, gesturing to his eye “for, you know,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete ran his hands through his hair “right. Um. I have to… I have to go tell her to find a new psychedelic, or change her sleep meds.  Then I have to go eat lunch and sleep and tell Dr. Williams about my weekend…” Pete realized he was rambling and looked back at Patrick “I’ve gotta go,” he said, taking off down the hallway before turning back around, still walking “let me know how your eye feels!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome,” Patrick yelled after him “and thank you! I’ll see you later!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete turned back around to go find his patient, only to run into Hayley “how’s Dr. Stump?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He just solved my amnesia problem, and he should be fine. How’s the world's oldest lady boxer?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughed, turning to walk beside him “back in her room. Still convinced she’s pregnant. Not hitting anyone else last I checked. So now that your research project is done are you going to get lunch with me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Hayley, I promise, give me ten minutes and I promise I will.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I've been loving this fic so I hope you are too! As always, I love getting comments because they let me know that people are enjoying what I post and they keep me motivated. You can also reach out to me on tumblr at lupinwritings where I'm always happy to talk about my fics and post lots of fandom related stuff. Thanks again for reading and I'll see you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You paged me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete turned around and smiled “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to contact you,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick zipped up his jacket and chuckled “I was almost letting myself get worried it was for work,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been here long enough, unless someone is dying, I’m out of here,” Pete held the door open for Patrick and smiled “I’d ask how your day was, but…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You already know my schedule,” Patrick finished “and I also know yours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So I guess we’re not talking about work, huh?” Pete said, shoving his hands into his pockets as a particularly frigid gust of wind hit them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick inhaled sharply and pulled on a pair of gloves “I’m ordering a hot chocolate,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete looked at Patrick for a second before wrapping his arm around his shoulders “I find microwaved beer very refreshing,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick laughed, barely reacting to Pete’s arm around him “hey, warm beer was a staple of my college years,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t strike me as the party type,” Pete smiled, ignoring how his fingers were starting to go numb against the fleece of Patrick’s jacket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t really but I went to a lot of shows,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah?” Pete glanced at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick chuckled before glancing at Pete’s hand and wrapping his fingers around his “you’re about to get frostbite, Dr. Wentz, and it’s been a long time since I reattached a finger,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled, leaning slightly against him as much as he could without tripping himself “are you trying to change the topic, Dr. Stump?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick sighed, leaning his head back against Pete’s arm, his breath condensing into a small cloud as he did “I was pretty involved in the underground punk and metal scenes when I was younger,” he admitted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete raised an eyebrow, memories popping back up, “where are you from again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Chicago,” Patrick said, running his thumb over Pete’s knuckles “great music scene, especially when you know where to look,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled. He sometimes missed the crowds and sweat and yelling. “I was pretty into the Chicago scene too,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick stopped walking suddenly and dropped Pete’s hand to cover his mouth “oh my god,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete turned to face him, furrowing his brows “are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pete,” Patrick said, more to himself than to Pete “Pete Wentz. As in…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete pursed his lips and nodded slowly. He’d thought he’d left himself back in 2005. “Don’t tell me…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick shook his head “I always wondered where you ended up,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled stiffly “well. Here I am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were kind of a god in that scene, I figured you’d… I don’t know,” Patrick ran a hand through his hair “I didn’t think you’d be a surgeon,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You flatter me. I’m better in the past tense, and I intend for that Pete Wentz to stay there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How did you end up a surgeon?” Patrick said, finally letting his hand drop away from his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shrugged “my music wasn’t good enough to cut it. Surgery has the same rush.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick paused for a moment “that… makes a lot of sense, actually,” he chuckled and looked down at the sidewalk “I get the feeling you don’t like to talk about it much,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled, glancing up at the dark sky “I sometimes miss it. Don’t get me wrong,” he continued, wrapping his arm back around Patrick and starting to walk with him again “I love what I do, but once and a while I wonder what would have happened if I had given it one more shot,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I always assumed you ended up overdosing or in rehab somewhere, I’m glad you’re doing well.” Patrick took his hand again “I hope that doesn’t sound insensitive,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete laughed and shook his head, squeezing Patrick’s hand “it’s alright. I ended up in enough hospitals I guess I just never left.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick covered a laugh with his hand, briefly brushing Pete’s fingers against his lips as he did “I’m sorry,” he breathed “that’s awful,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, you can laugh,” Pete reassured him “so, did you come to any shows?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All the time,” Patrick smiled “I always had to sneak in, I couldn’t pass for 21 even with a fake,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pretty dedicated fan, huh?” Pete laughed. He would have been in the same room with Patrick so many times. They could have met almost 20 years ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick let go of his hand to open the door for Pete. The warmth from the bar was inviting, even with the smell of cheap beer and the sound of too-loud conversations “you could say that,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete looked at him, panic washing over him as a very scary possibility came to him “please tell me I didn’t sleep with you and forget about it,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick turned to him and laughed, backing up to the line of bar stools and sitting down “you were a bigger player than I thought. I can safely say that you never even tried to sleep with me.” He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped himself, shaking his head before holding up two fingers to the bartender.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete exhaled in relief, sitting down next to Patrick and putting his head down on his arms. He could still feel his heart hammering. “Thank god…” he breathed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick ran his hand over Pete’s back, chuckling “I wasn’t your type anyway,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete lifted his head and glanced at the other man “you were a living, breathing human being. If you showed any interest in me, you would have been my type.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick took a sip from his beer “I was also 15, so probably for the best,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete coughed, taking his own beer “okay. Even more relieved now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick nodded and smiled “you’re lucky I wasn’t as drop-dead gorgeous as I am now,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick was joking. Pete knew that, but he had a point. They were usually too busy with work to think about much else but Patrick was attractive. Objectively. His smile was warm and inviting. His hair fell into his face when it wasn’t secured under a scrub cap. He had full lips, if he didn’t know any better he’d think he’d had fillers. Maybe he had for all Pete knew. His skin was flushed red from the cold. His eyes were brighter than most surgeons. Objectively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m kidding.” Patrick added, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips “you’re staring.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head and looked away from Patrick “sorry. Just thinking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s hand shot back to his mouth to wipe beer away from the corner of his lips, bringing Pete’s attention back to him “shit,” he laughed “drink much, I know,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete rolled his eyes and reached over to wipe foam off his top lip “sure you’re over 21?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick pushed his hand away “shut up,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So what made you get into neonatal?” Pete asked, letting his hand drop back to his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick leaned back slightly before taking another sip of his beer “honestly? I was good at it. That’s how I started anyway. I thought I was going to go into trauma or cardio, something big and dramatic, but I wasn’t… I played to my strengths. And it’s nice getting to bring something into the world, not just take it away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ouch,” Pete laughed “is that how you see the rest of us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick covered his mouth to hide a smile as he shook his head “of course not. What got you into general?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shrugged “same thing, I guess. I was good at it. There were spots available and… play to your strengths.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you like it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Pete said, looking up “it’s definitely where my passion is, when it comes to surgery at least,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick swiveled his chair to face him more “and outside of surgery?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete had to think for a second. He knew what his answer was but he couldn’t decide whether to say it or not. He finished his beer and decided that, fuck it, if he said nothing he’d just seem boring and detached. “I’ve got a kid,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled. He clearly liked kids. He was in the wrong specialty if he didn’t. “Oh yeah? How old?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“10. 11 in March.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got a nephew around that age,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded and held his hand up briefly for another drink “your family in the area?” he asked, breaking the momentary awkward silence. Talking about Jude was always awkward. People always asked how he found the time and Pete was reminded how he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> find the time. That had been the whole issue. Aiden had married him when he was an ex-musician just out of rehab and going back to school. His future had seemed impossibly bright. Neither of them could have pictured things going wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Most of them, yeah. My sister moved to Cleveland with her husband but pretty much everyone else is still here,” Patrick replied “what about yours?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Same. My brother is in law school in Boston.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick raised an eyebrow and leaned on his elbow “successful family,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have no idea…” Pete breathed. Most surgeons weren’t the disappointments of the family. Pete was an exception to the rule.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s your kid’s name?” Patrick asked “sorry to pry,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jude-” he held his palm up and smiled “yes, like the song.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick laughed “get that a lot?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All the time. For the record, it was my husband’s idea.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy early Valentine's day! I hope you'll accept this chapter in place of regular celebrations. I hope everyone has a good socially distanced and safe Valentine's day this weekend. As always I love reading your comments because they keep me motivated to write and always make my day! Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Pete rolled an apple back and forth between his hands over the table. His eyes were on the chart in front of him but his heart wasn’t in it. He’d been staring at the same numbers and chemicals since he got in an hour ago. The fluorescent lights and crowded hallways were enough to convince himself that it wasn’t almost midnight. Normal people would be asleep now. Or out with their friends. He stifled a yawn and glanced at the nurse beside him “any chance I could talk you into getting me a coffee?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nurse glanced from her computer and up at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed and rubbed his forehead “I’ll talk down the next hysteric person who comes through the door,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled and stood up “I’ll get you as many coffees as you want, Dr. Wentz,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Vanessa,” he chuckled, watching her walk towards the cafeteria before looking back at the chart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you weren’t supposed to be in tonight,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete spun around in his chair, knocking the apple onto the floor as he failed to block it with his hand “Dr. Stump, good to see you.” He paused for a moment before catching up with what Patrick had said “um, no I got paged in when one of my patients coded and… I’m already up so I might as well hang around to make sure they’re okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick bent over to pick the apple back up, tossing it onto Pete’s lap before sitting down beside him “I had fun last night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete jumped slightly, catching the fruit, before setting it down “I did too. We should do it again sometime, in 100 years when we both get another night off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick laughed “something like that. Your patient okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded, tossing the apple up into the air and catching it “for now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete glanced at Patrick “you’re sorry my patient lived?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick wheeled his chair over and pushed his shoulder gently “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span> that you got paged in the middle of the night. You look exhausted.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. I’m just tired of looking at this chart like I’ll somehow figure it out the 50th time I look at it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes people just crash,” Patrick sighed “and I’m sorry for that too,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You apologize a lot, especially when it’s not your fault,” Pete observed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry you have to go through it, my fault or not,” Patrick offered, briefly lifting his hand before dropping it back onto the arm of his chair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shrugged before crossing his arms over his chest “yeah, well…” he sighed “I’m sorry too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should get home to your kid, I can keep an eye on stuff here,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete pursed his lips “they’re with my ex. His dad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick visibly clenched his jaw “I am… </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head, waving Patrick off “it’s fine. I’m used to it. They’re better off with someone who doesn’t leave in the middle of the night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s why we never had kids. My husband and I, I mean, on top of other reasons,” Patrick started, going pale when he realized what he had said “-not that I think you made a bad decision or anything, I’m sure you’re a fantastic father I just-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled and leaned over, taking Patrick’s hands “Dr. Stump, do I make you that nervous?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s eyes went wide “I- no, of course not I-" his eyebrows furrowed and he leaned back in his chair "you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled and nodded “of course I am,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both jumped as a pager went off, reaching for their own pagers. Pete jumped out of his chair when he saw that it was his pager. “Fuck,” he hissed “that’s mine,”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete wiped his forehead with his hand, not noticing how he’d wiped blood onto himself until it dripped into his eyes “shit,” he breathed, wiping his off with his forearm as best he could “shit…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick pressed a cloth against his forehead “Dr. Wentz, what you just did was…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say it,” Pete shook his head, leaning back against the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was incredible,” Patrick replied, gently wiping blood out of his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t listen well,” Pete chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never have. You just repaired a torn ulcer- practically on your own. I have the right to call that incredible.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop talking before you give me an ulcer as well,” he breathed, catching Patrick’s wrist. He was impressed he hadn't had a worse outcome there was well. The patient was already on blood thinners for a preexisting condition. The worst possible scenario was that his ulcer burst and they had to do an emergency operation, especially one as risky as that. Pete didn't want to think about how close he'd been to a much worse scenario. “I am going home and going to bed,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled and grabbed a fresh cloth “as soon as I make you not look like you murdered someone." Hygiene was a top priority when operating but surgical gowns and gloves could only protect against so much "Which, I have to repeat again, you didn’t, which is </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> impressive,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lucky break.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you say, Dr. Wentz,” Patrick tossed the cloths into the box “go to bed, you deserve it. I’ll personally keep an eye on your patient and make sure he’s alright.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Dr. Stump,” he sighed, looking at Patrick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled at him for a moment before he seemingly realized how close he was standing and backed up “I - um. I should go. Have a good night, Dr. Wentz.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete glanced down at the tile floor “you too, Dr. Stump,” he looked up in time to watch Patrick walking away.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“There had better be a good reason why you’re calling me at one in the morning,” Hayley said over the phone, voice groggy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s a good reason,” Pete said. He was standing in his kitchen, a half-made sandwich laying forgotten on the counter in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley yawned “alright. Make it quick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed “I think I really like Dr. Stump,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Hayley said, the sound muffled as she moved “like, as in more than as a friend,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete rubbed his eyes, bracing his elbows on the counter “I don’t know. Yes. I think so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since when?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head “since about 30 seconds ago when I realized.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think I’d see the day Pete Wentz went back to dating,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re not dating,” Pete corrected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to ask him out?” she started again before he could reply. Not that he knew what he’d say “is he even into guys?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He had a husband,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Had? You’re sure, right? Because you’re not about to become a homewrecker, Pete, I won’t allow it,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Had. He’s divorced.” Pete sighed “I don’t even remember how to do relationships, not that I ever really knew,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pete, relax. You’re not getting married. Yet.” she laughed “I’m kidding. For now. Just ask him to go for drinks sometime, or lunch. You’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We already went for drinks,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pete! Holy shit!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think anything of it,” he rubbed his eyes again “I thought we were just colleagues but tonight we were working and - I don’t know, I just got home and realized. I should have kissed him. Last night. I don’t know why I didn’t. Except that’s crazy because he didn’t say anything that would make me think that I should have-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley cut him off “okay. Pete. You’re going to calm down, go to bed, and call me back in the morning once you’ve slept on it. You’re freaking out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m…” he almost protested but she was right “okay. You’re right. I’m just emotional from almost losing a patient and tired and I’m overreacting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are, but that’s okay, you’re going to call me in the morning, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Pete sighed “right. Yeah. I will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t do anything drastic, Pete,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knew him too well “I won’t,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At least not without talking to me first,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call you,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was about to hang up when she continued “I’m serious,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you are, Hayley. And I won’t do anything drastic without talking to you first,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ideally not at all,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right. Got it. Can I go to bed now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Pete. Be good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Hayley.” He hung up before looking down at Hemmingway “what are we gonna do now, buddy?” The dog only smacked his lips hopefully, a line of drool hanging down onto the floor. “Alright, alright,” he sighed, tossing the bread and cheese onto the floor for him “some help you are.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Pete finally gets it!</p><p>Thank you for reading! I'm loving this fic so much, even though it's very much out of my comfort zone, so I hope that you are all liking it too! Comments always make my day and keep me motivated to post and keep up with my schedule when things get busy so please don't hesitate to leave any thoughts you have! You can also reach out to me on my tumblr (lupinwritings) where I post fandom and writing stuff. Thanks again for reading a have a great week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Doctors didn’t have favourite patients. It was completely unprofessional and only led to complications. Pete was fully aware of that. That said, Pete found himself opening the familiar door. “Hey, Dara,” he smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi Dr. Wentz,” the teenager said through a heavy southern accent. Her family had moved from Missouri for her treatment “is something wrong?” she sat up, clearly trying to keep her voice level but Pete had known her long enough to recognize the shake in her voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything from your last test seems fine. No change,” he sat down on the stool and wheeled himself next to her bedside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No change isn’t fine when I have liver cancer,” she laughed dryly, closing her sketchbook and leaning back against her pillows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete pursed his lips and checked her vitals on the monitor “you’re doing a lot better than you were six months ago. That’s what we need to focus on. Not every day is a progress day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two steps forward, one step back?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled and glanced at her, reaching over to push her braids out of her face “exactly,” it wasn’t good for her to think about nothing but charts and statistics all day. That was his job. “Have you done any more drawings?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pushed her sketchbook over to him “my hands haven’t been shaking as much today,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took the book and flipped through it. The pages were filled with the familiar drawings of comic book characters, mythical creatures, and futuristic cityscapes. The final few pages were new. He smiled and ran his fingers along the page. “You draw her a lot,” he observed “is she your favourite character?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s mine,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked up “woah, like, you made her up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded, glancing out the window instead of at him “can I tell you a secret?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded, handing the sketchbook back “of course, I couldn’t tell anyone even if I wanted to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doctor-patient confidentiality,” she smiled “right. Well, I guess I thought… she’s who I’d want to be. Being in a bed all day hooked up to monitors and all… makes me wish I had a way to just fix it all. Superheroes in comics don’t get cancer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete squeezed her hand “maybe this one does,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughed, looking up at the ceiling “kind of a shitty superpower, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled, standing up “maybe. You just focus on the good days. We’ll get there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you leaving?” she asked, dropping his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got to check on some stuff. I’ll come back before your next labs if you want,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded “thanks, Dr. Wentz,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled at her before stepping out the door, only to meet Hayley’s eyes. She leaned across the opposite wall, arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed. “So,” she said matter-of-factly “something you forgot to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hayley,” he sighed, realizing that texting her had completely slipped his mind “there was an emergency,” he lied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With Dara?” she asked, obviously unconvinced.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-” he swallowed “okay, so emergency is a bit of an overstatement,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are such an asshole. Come with me.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hallway “tell me what’s going on,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed, rolling his eyes as she pulled him into a conference room “okay, okay, just calm down,” he pushed her hands away “and stop digging your nails into my arm,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said you would call,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sat down at the table and shook his head “I know I did,” he shrugged “you were right, though, because I slept on it and now I don’t know what I’m doing,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley chuckled and sat down beside him “you are such a hot mess,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete glanced at her “are you done being mad at me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For now,” she teased, reaching over to ruffle his hair “do you still like him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete leaned his head on his hand “I don’t know anymore. I think so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s such a nonanswer,” she smiled “talk to me,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete wanted to be honest. He never liked lying to Hayley, he just didn’t know what to say in the first place. He didn’t even know what he was feeling. He’d woken up that morning, unable to get back to sleep, wracked with nerves about which possibility was worse: that he actually liked Patrick and would have to deal with the aftermath of his feelings or that he didn’t and was going into a fit of lust and frustration fueled hysteria. Neither sounded like ideal options. And that wasn’t even taking into account the possibility of him losing his license due to his sleep deprivation. “I don’t know… I haven’t had feelings for someone in such a long time,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley squeezed his hand “it wasn’t that long ago that you were saying the same thing about Aiden,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete couldn’t help himself but laugh “with all due respect,” he squeezed her hand in return “that’s not really the relationship I want to base my future ones on,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have a good point,” Hayley smiled, rolling her chair over to the coffee machine “so now what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete leaned back, shaking his head “I don’t know. If I’m wrong and I say something I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley kicked Pete’s chair before pouring coffee into a mug which read ‘world’s okayest surgeon’ that someone years ago had gotten as a gift and then abandoned in the lounge “stop complaining. Here’s the thing, sweetheart,” she set the mug in front of him “either you say something or you don’t. Either he feels the same or he doesn’t. You’re both professionals so you’ll just have to figure it out. You’re overthinking things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete knew she was right. He just didn’t trust himself enough to make the decision. Rationally, he knew that nothing would probably happen. If he did say something, Patrick would probably politely turn him down. He might even say yes and they’d go on a few awkward dates before deciding to call it off. They’d avoid each other for a few weeks and then get over it. Unfortunately, Pete was also a very irrational person. He couldn’t shake the idea that Patrick might also freak out on him. The dates might also be great. He hadn’t known Patrick that long but he felt lighter when he was around him. He reminded him of Aiden before he’d started hating Pete. He hadn’t known how much he’d missed that until now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Drink your coffee,” Hayley sighed, rubbing his arm “then come watch my carpal tunnel surgery and calm down. Think about something other than Dr. Stump.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” Pete shook his head “I just…” he didn’t know what he intended to say next. Luckily, Hayley took over for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She carded her fingers through his hair “you’re one of the smartest men I know, Pete, but you’re so stupid sometimes. You know what you’re doing. Just stop listening to your brain, okay? You’re going to be okay. You’re out of practice when it comes to dating and you’re panicking because you’re not in control. So find something you can control and let go of the rest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He blinked at her “something I can control…” he repeated, working over what she’d said. She was right. Again. “Fuck. Okay. Got it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled, ruffling his hair “perfect. Get over yourself and figure it out. Because I need to not be worried about you freaking out while I’m in surgery, or worse, when you are,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete jumped as the door opened, spun around in his chair to see Patrick standing in the door. Just his luck. “Sorry,” Patrick said, starting to back out the doorway “I don’t mean to interrupt,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just about to go,” Pete said, standing up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Before you do,” Patrick said, blocking the doorway with one arm, “are either of you vegetarian?” Pete glanced at Hayley, who shrugged and shook her head before glancing back at Patrick. “Perfect,” Patrick said, reaching into his pocket and tossing a card onto the table “my patient sent me a gift card to a steakhouse and I need someone to take it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley shrugged again and took the card between her fingers “well, I did need a birthday present for my dad,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s all yours,” Pete said. He’d gotten very good at acting casual in very chaotic situations during his residency. It came in handy quite a lot. “Well, I should get going,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good to see you, Dr. Wentz,” Pete said, ducking under Patrick’s arm. He needed a situation he could control. This wasn’t it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You as well,” Patrick said, briefly turning to watch him. He didn’t call him back, though. Pete needed to make rounds anyway. Usually, he’d hand it off to an intern but he needed to get his mind off things. He could really use a surgery.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Hayley said, leaning over Pete’s shoulder to look at the MRI scan on the computer in front of him “I get it,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete glanced up at her. They hadn’t talked since yesterday. There had been a massive car accident in the afternoon and Pete had been repairing a shattered kidney all day before he eventually had to force himself to go home. “Get what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Stump. I get why you like him. We worked the night shift last night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed. He had been enjoying not having to think about his personal life. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s sweet. He’d be good for you. If you don’t ask him out, I’m going to,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete rolled his eyes and gently pushed her face away “how well do you think that’ll go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He told me he had a girlfriend in high school. Maybe he wants another one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you know more about him than I do?” Pete chuckled, looking away from the screen to look up at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m serious. And I’m pretty sure he likes you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head, though he could feel his heart pounding in his throat “if you worked the night shift, shouldn’t you be getting home?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m on my way out. I wanted to say hi to you first,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete spun his chair around to face her “well. Hi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to ask why I think he likes you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to tell me anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley smiled and shrugged “guess not. Have a good one,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sat up straighter as she turned and walked off “wait, hold on,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She waved, her other hand on the door “see you later, Pete,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hayley, hold on,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye!” she smiled before leaving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed. He had forgotten how hard this was.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! It's been really tough finding the motivation to write because I'm so busy with school and work lately so thank you SO MUCH to the people who leave comments. It feels a lot more worth it knowing that people are enjoying what I write. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and, as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts either in the comments or on Tumblr (lupinwritings). Have a good week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Pete scanned over the last of his charts for the day before setting them on the nurse’s table and pulling a jacket over his scrubs. He was supposed to get off at 5 but it had been pushed back by a gunshot wound. If he left now he’d still have time to get home before the NHL playoffs. Pete wasn’t much of a hockey fan but it made for good water cooler talk with his coworkers who he didn’t know well. That was most of them, other than Hayley and Patrick, of course.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Wentz, are you leaving?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete knew that voice. He mentally braced himself for whatever was coming. He turned around and smiled “chief, I was just finishing up. Anything I can do for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chief Cassidy was the chief of surgery and pretty much in charge of everything when it came to the hospital. She was nice enough but Pete also knew better than to risk making her upset.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just curious if you were joining us for drinks tonight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete furrowed his eyebrows, pausing for a moment to mentally check his schedule. He hadn’t heard anything about going out for drinks. He leaned back against the nurse’s table “not sure I got the memo on that,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I won’t keep you if you’re heading out, but since it’s Dr. Stump’s birthday, Dr. Ayers, Dr. Williams, Dr. Beckham, Dr. Rudaki and I are taking him out for drinks. I figured someone would have told you. You’d be welcome to come, I’m sure, since you two are so close,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete paused again. It was coming up on three months since he’d met Dr. Stump and he’d hadn’t had any clue it was his birthday. Some friend he was. “What time?” he asked. He had no excuse not to go know that he knew about it. And he liked spending time with Patrick. They’d gotten pretty close over the last few months. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Stump should be out of surgery in a half-hour if all goes well. Will we be seeing you then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded “yeah, sure, I think I’ll run home until then, but I’ll swing by,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Cassidy smiled and patted him on the shoulder. She was a few inches shorter than Pete but no one in the hospital looked down on her, metaphorically speaking. “Glad to hear it. I’ll see you then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete stood up a bit straighter and nodded politely, watching her leave the room. He’d usually be annoyed about the idea of having to abandon his plans with his television, couch, and a bag of tortilla chips but it had been a while since he’d gotten to hang out with Patrick outside of work. Patrick consistently pushed him out of his comfort zone. It was somehow comforting.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pete!” Hayley grinned, grabbing his arm before pushing a beer into his hand “I thought you were ditching us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete took the bottle and threw his arm over her shoulder “never,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh,” she hummed, leaning back against the table. “Have you seen Patrick yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bar was crowded. He recognized a few faces from work as well as a few regulars but for the most part they were strangers. Pete was fine with that. There had been a time when he was most at home in a crowd of people he didn’t know and couldn’t hear over the music. 10 years ago he would have hated anyone who compared a shitty bar down the road from a hospital to a metal show. Yet here he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He hasn’t.” Pete turned around to see Patrick squeeze his way between two tables.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Pete muttered, “sorry,” he said again louder so that Patrick could actually hear him over the crowd. Things had been good between him and Patrick. Sometimes Pete still felt awkward around him. Patrick was golden. He was sterling silver that turns your skin green and loses its shine after a few weeks. “I just got here,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m messing with you,” Patrick laughed, sliding past Pete. He smelled like good cologne. The kind they didn’t sell at mall kiosks or department stores. “Want me to buy you a drink, Dr. Williams?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes “Patrick, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> birthday, stop trying to buy me drinks. I’m going to start getting the wrong idea,” she reached over and loosened his tie “and we’re off call. It’s Hayley,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete glanced over at the bar, suddenly much more interested in counting the bottles than the current conversation. He wished he wasn’t already holding a beer so that he could have a better excuse to leave. He spent months going back and forth on whether to say anything to Patrick. He decided that it didn’t really matter anyway. The brief feelings he’d had for Patrick weren’t worth losing a great work relationship with a talented colleague. Once and a while he wondered, though. He took a long swig of his beer and repressed his irrational thoughts again. He was just tired and overworked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pete,” Hayley said, looking up at him “come and buy Patrick a drink with me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick raised an eyebrow “is that a two-person job?” he shook his head “and you don’t have to do that. Either of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m kind of with Patrick, Hayley,” Pete chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pete.” She repeated. Pete got it that time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” he put his beer down “on my way,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He followed Hayley through the crowd until they were out of earshot “are you still into him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete took a step back and furrowed his brows “no, what? Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, looking up at the ceiling “Jesus. Pete. You turned bright red the second I said anything,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t,” Pete protested. He knew that Hayley knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. It wasn’t worth pushing it. Didn’t stop him from trying once or twice, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you did. Stop arguing. Tell me what’s up.” She crossed her arms over her chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugged, giving up “I don’t know. I’m not into him but sometimes…” he trailed off. He was hoping he’d find the words to explain it to himself if he said it out loud but he was still at a loss. No matter how much he knew it was a bad idea, something about Patrick still made him wonder what if.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought we were done with this,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So did I. We are. I’m working on it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed and took his arm again “you’re a mess. Come on. Let’s go buy your boyfriend a drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete’s intention wasn’t trying to get that drunk, but when the bartender had heard that it was Patrick’s birthday he’d set down a tray of shots on the house. Then Dr. Beckham had bought another round. Pete was pretty sure the next round was bought by a stranger Hayley was flirting with but he wasn’t as sure about that one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head, downing the rest of his vodka cranberry before pushing the glass away from him “I’m done,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley had gone home with the guy she’d been talking with (under the promise to text if she got kidnapped, of course) and the chief along with Dr. Beckham, Rudaki, and Ayers had left after the second round of shots. Somehow, Pete couldn’t make himself return to the silence of his house. “Are you heading out?” Patrick turned to him, swirling his own cocktail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded “yeah. I’ve got a morning shift and need to get some sleep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick chuckled, briefly leaning over against Pete’s shoulder “you’re not gonna make that shift,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete put cash down on the bar before standing up, only for Patrick to grab his arm “tell me you’re not thinking of driving,” Patrick insisted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head. He was dumb and not in his right mind but he wasn’t that far gone. “I can walk from here,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick nodded and got up “I’ll walk with you. My ride’s gonna be here any minute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete let Patrick follow him out. The bar was quieter now. Only a few people remained, mainly sitting by themselves, looking at their drinks or their phones in silence. Only a few hushed conversations remained. “Did you have a good birthday?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick chuckled, holding the door for Pete “can I tell you a secret?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete looked at him, wrapping his coat back around himself “uh-huh,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let the door swing closed behind them and pulled Pete closer by his collar. Pete swore he could feel his blood pressure rise as Pete leaned closer to mutter against his ear. He was a lot more fucked than he’d thought he was. “My birthday was yesterday. I wasn’t about to correct the chief, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete laughed, probably too loud for how close they were, and steadied himself with his hand on Patrick’s hip “well how was the day after your birthday?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled, zipping up Pete’s coat for him “perfect,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t sure how to respond. His brain was too sluggish to form a coherent next step. So he did the only thing that felt natural. He pushed Patrick back against the concrete wall behind him and kissed him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time he caught up to what had just happened, Patrick’s fingers were in his hair and he was leaning up into him. Pete felt like his whole body was on fire as he pushed his hands under Patrick’s coat, eliciting a sharp hiss from the other man. “Sorry,” Patrick breathed, running his thumb over Pete’s cheekbone “cold.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Pete whispered in reply, leaning his forehead against Patrick’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick kissed him again, pulling Pete closer. Pete was suddenly glad his brain was being so slow. “You’re so hot,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop talking,” Patrick chuckled against his lips before pulling him back into another kiss. It was clumsy and Pete internally cringed each time their teeth hit each other but right now Pete’s main priority was keeping his tongue in Patrick’s mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite Pete’s best efforts, Patrick shill eventually pulled away and shook his head “I’m not having sex with you in a bar parking lot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete looked at him, loving the bedroom eyes Patrick was giving him. Patrick clearly was the more rational one then because Pete would have gone a lot farther before protesting. Probably too far. “Come home with me then,” he breathed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick gave him a small smile before patting his shoulder and shaking his head “no,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete straightened up slightly. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been turned down before but Patrick’s timing was impeccable. Pete wasn’t enough of an asshole to be mad at him though. “You’re right. We’ve been drinking. Another night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick shook his head again “Pete. I’m sorry. I don’t sleep with my coworkers. Even the…” he paused and let his eyes flick down for a moment “ridiculously attractive ones.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete swallowed. He’d spent so long saying he’d never act on any feelings he might have had for Patrick because he’d been worried it would blow up in his face. He’d expected to be rejected from the start or to be broken up with. This was an odd combination of both that he hadn’t expected at all. He was an idiot. “Right.” He said plainly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve, uh -” Patrick started, sidestepping away from Pete “my car’s here,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Pete repeated “see you tomorrow,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled, rebuttoning his coat “see you tomorrow. Thanks for a fun night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete didn’t allow himself to be desperate enough to just watch him go. He started walking home instead.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>First of all, I'd like to apologize for any emotional distress this chapter has caused. That said, I hope you enjoyed it! I love to hear your thoughts so feel free to leave me a comment or reach out to me on tumblr (lupinwritings). Comments keep me motivated to write and always make me happy! Have a good week! See you next Friday!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You did </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t yell at me,” Pete sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the door. The on-call rooms were dark enough to ease his headache but Hayley yelling at him was bringing it back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t leave you alone for </span>
  <em>
    <span>five minutes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, can I?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t my fault,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you. I- so he just-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded and shrugged “he just left.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed and walked over to the window, closing the blinds and further darkening the room “you want to talk about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete had almost been glad for the hangover, it had given him a distraction from being rejected last night. “I don’t know,” it would have been easier if Patrick had rejected him from the start. Maybe if they’d even slept together, at least then he could say Patrick wasn’t interested or that he’d only used him for sex “what am I supposed to do when I see him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault,” she said, sitting down on the bed and tossing the pillows across the room to make space for him “not that it’s his either, not entirely, but it’s…” she leaned against his shoulder as he sat down beside her “I don’t know, Pete,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hayley was a good friend. And a talkative one who never turned down an opportunity to insert herself into someone’s personal life. It wasn’t a good sign when she was at a loss for words. Pete squeezed her hand “think I should move to Tunesia and start a falafel stand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She exhaled sharply and rolled her eyes “not yet. Always good to have a backup plan, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I might need it,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If it makes you feel better,” she squeezed his hand “I don’t think that he’s in today,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally some good news. He sighed and leaned back against the wall “thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” she leaned further into him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know what to say, so instead, he leaned back against the wall and looked out the cracks in the blinds. Outside was nothing but a thick layer of grey clouds.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what movie are we gonna watch tonight?” Pete asked, setting the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Captain America,” Jude said matter of factly, pulling Hemmingway away from the popcorn and onto their lap “Dylan has the comics and says he’d let me borrow them on Friday. He has to ask his dad, first, though,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled. He could listen to the mundane happenings of Jude’s life all night. “Yeah? I think I have some of my comics from when I was your age up in the attack if you want to take a look,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jude hugged the struggling dog closer to their chest, ignoring the way Hemmingway sprayed drool over the couch cushions. They probably needed to be cleaned anyway. “That’d be cool. Can we still go to Universal for my birthday?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sat down on the couch and reached over the scratch behind Hemmingway’s ear “of course we can. Anything else you want to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad’s gonna get me a skateboard. He says he isn’t but he’s a bad liar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled, though it felt a bit forced “you’re right. And he doesn’t know anything about superheroes,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jude laughed, letting Hemmingway go and reaching for the popcorn bowl instead “uh-huh. Can we watch the movie now, dad?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled at them and ruffled their hair before taking the remote to navigate to the right screen “right, of course we can,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cool,” Jude said, leaning against Pete as the opening credit scene started “did you know that popcorn is better with Milk duds in it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled, tossing a few pieces of popcorn to Hemmingway before grabbing a handful for himself “I didn’t know that. Your dad teach you that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we went to the movie theatre last week,”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Movie theatre candy is overpriced,” Pete had said, handing his credit card to the movie theatre employee behind the counter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s worth it,” Aiden laughed, squeezing Pete’s hand briefly “I don’t know if I can keep seeing you if you don’t agree with me on this,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pete couldn’t help but glance behind him to see if anyone was looking before reaching for Aiden’s hand in response “maybe I’ll be a convert,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aiden dropped his hand as the employee brought back Pete’s card along with a large popcorn and box of Milk Duds. He grabbed the food instead. “You’ll have to be. Unless you’re trying to get rid of me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pete smiled and followed him as he walked towards the theatres “I have no intention of doing that,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You sure?” Aiden asked, glancing behind him and smiling.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I quite like having you in my life, actually,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good,” Aiden said, ducking into an empty hallway.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pete glanced up at the bright yellow 6 painted above the hallway then at the tickets which clearly read 11 “what are you doing?</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Come here, idiot,” Aiden laughed, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him over to kiss him “I have no intention of losing you either.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete was pretty good at avoiding people when he needed to. He’d grown particularly good at it after years of overly-involved parents, hypercondriacs, and lonely patients in need of someone to talk to. That could only go so far, though. Sometimes you got cornered by a patient or their family members. Sometimes there was an emergency.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Wentz? I need a second pair of hands here,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete spun around, the urgency in the other man’s voice temporarily making him forget the rest. Only temporarily, though. He froze for a second as he saw Patrick in the doorway, a baby on one arm and a hand-ventilator in his other hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Wentz, please,” Patrick repeated, his voice getting even more urgent “my hand is cramping and I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete got a hold of himself in time to step closer and take both from Patrick. He looked down at the infant in his arm, a tube down her throat to help her breathe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Patrick breathed, leaning against the wall. Pete really didn’t want to think about Patrick leaning against a certain concrete wall outside a certain bar. Luckily, he had to squeeze the ventilator once per second so he could focus on counting for now “I had to switch to hand ventilation right after my nurse went to find her parents. You’re a lifesaver.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just doing my job,” Pete said, reminding himself that it wasn’t personal. None of it had been personal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Patrick said, massaging his wrist. He paused, glancing over at Pete “do we need to talk about things?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shrugged as much as he comfortably could without interrupting his ventilations or disturbing the infant in his arms “do we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pete,” Patrick sighed. Pete expected annoyance or anger from him but not the abject dejection “I’m sorry I let it go as far as it did-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really hard to count breaths when you’re talking,” Pete said bitterly. It was childish. He knew it was probably a terrible choice to not try and smooth things over with Patrick but he wasn’t in the mood for this conversation. It would be easier for them both to ignore it. Sure, it would keep him awake at night thinking about the ‘what if’s, but at least he wouldn’t be trying to find the words that, no, he wasn’t okay with things and that, no, Patrick didn’t need to apologize because he didn’t blame him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then let me,” Patrick stepped closer and worked his arm under Pete’s in order to take the bundle of blankets containing the underdeveloped infant as well as their hand ventilator “and just listen.” Pete pursed his lips. He considered walking away. He could say he didn’t have time because he needed to talk to a patient, but by the time he realized that Patrick was talking again. “This is hard for me to say,” Patrick said before rocking back on his heels “so excuse me if I have to stumble my way through this but, sorry,” he laughed nervously. Pete hated the fact that he  “the things is, though, that even though I can’t… can’t do this with you, I-I,” Patrick had gone red and his eyes were even wider than they had been when Pete kissed him. “I like you more than I should. You’re a talented surgeon and a valued coworker a-and I should see you as more than that. So please allow me to appologize and then-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head and cut him off.  He tried to keep his composure as much as possible. He’d never been good at talking about his feelings he wasn’t about to let the moment go, though. He could feel his heart in his throat and he shoved his hands into his coat pockets so he wasn’t thinking about them shaking and sweating. “Why would I have -'' he glanced at the nurse table down the hall and lowered his voice “I’ll admit I was… more intoxicated than I would have liked. I had been thinking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing that</span>
  </em>
  <span> when I was stone cold sober, though, for longer than I would like to admit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick closed his eyes and leaned his head back, still squeezing every second. This probably wasn’t the conversation to be happening right now but here they were. “Please stop talking, Pete,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete paused, furrowing his brows. Patrick just kept throwing him for loops. Every time he thought he had him figured out he made another wild card move. Unfortunately for Pete, it was only making him more infatuated with him. “Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Patrick said. Any hint of amusement gone from his voice. Either he was being very serious or he was a fantastic liar. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told </span>
  </em>
  <span>you,” he sighed “I don’t sleep with my coworkers. Or kiss them. Or have inappropriate work conversations. I don’t think I like the person you make me into, Pete.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete was going to argue but that stopped him. There wasn’t any coming back from that. Instead, he nodded and looked up at the ceiling. “Right,” he breathed “it won’t happen again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean it like that,” Patrick said quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t mean to say it. That doesn’t mean he didn’t mean it. “It’s fine.” Pete lied. “If you don’t need anything else from me, I have a patient to get to,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pete, hold on,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head and turned. He needed to think about something other than Patrick. Anything was better than running through this conversation over and over again. He’d have plenty of time for that later.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I promise this isn't going to be a nothing but constant misunderstandings and angst fic, but it's not a good melodrama without a few chapters that make you want to kill the writer. Please don't, though, because I promise there will still be a happy ending. Thank you, as always, for reading and let me know any thoughts, rants, feedback, or enraged keysmashes in the comments, I love to hear from you! See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next day Pete changed his schedule so that he didn't have to scrub in with Patrick. Professional differences, according to the request form he’d filled out. He didn’t know which felt worse, the surgeries he might miss out on because of this or the knowledge that he’d wrecked the friendship he’d had with Patrick. He almost called Hayley before dropping the form off in the box but he didn’t want to have to talk about things. He wanted to just go back to his life as usual.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d spent a lot of time writing about it last night. He didn’t have much time to write anymore but Patrick had reminded him of a lot and he’d ended up pulling out his old journals. He’d had a habit of buying journals that he’d never end up getting to so he had plenty of blank ones to fill. He hadn’t been sleeping well so he’d written for a while to get his thoughts out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His pages were always a train of consciousness - word vomit, as one of his old bandmates had once called it, he didn’t like that term, though, it didn’t do the action justice. Pete wasn’t under the impression that his sleep-deprived and emotion-driven rants were the next </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ophelia</span>
  </em>
  <span> but they were therapeutic. Pete didn’t have the time to see an actual therapist anymore so this did the trick. He’d come to the conclusion that Patrick was mainly to blame here. Pete had been turned down before but nothing like that. Despite that, he still couldn’t shake how much he still liked the other doctor. He liked him enough to give him the space he so clearly wanted. And the benefit of the doubt. Pete had done things he regretted. He’d hurt people who didn’t deserve it. It didn’t make Patrick’s outburst right, but… Hayley would say the train of thought was a self sauboataging one. Pete preferred the idea that he was being equitable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>People were complicated and irrational and unpredictable. They didn’t follow equations or steps. People think they’re completely separate from the world a scientist would feel comfortable in but surgery was far more like that than you’d think. Like with people, you start by knowing the steps. You have a plan. You work through it again and again and you practice and still… things change so quickly. And you improvise the best you can. And sometimes you make it out with everyone alive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete glanced up as the fluorescent lights flickered in time with the thunder outside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is everything okay, Dr. Wentz?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete looked back at Dara and smiled “nothing to worry about, we’ve got backup generators on backup generators just in case.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She held up the tv remote “weather channel says it’s going to be the last big storm of the year.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He checked the numbers on her chart again “well the only notice we’ve been given is about the roads, so you should be just fine so long as you don’t drive anywhere,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She leaned over to pull the blinds open. The world outside was gray and darkening quickly. “If the roads are bad are things going to be busy around here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete frowned and nodded “probably. You don’t have to worry about that, though,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stuck her tongue out “shouldn’t you be getting ready, though?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’ll page me if they need me. Right now my focus is making sure you don’t have to go back into an operating room any time soon,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So? Am I?” She asked. He could tell she wasn’t as relaxed as tried to seem.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled and shook his head “we’re gonna keep an eye on it for a while, but you seem like you’re doing well so far,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulled her blanket - the Black Widow ones her aunt had sent her for Christmas last year - up to her face to hide her grin. Pete knew from the way her shoulders shook that she was crying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to call your mom for you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head and grabbed her phone from the table beside her bed “I-I want to tell her. Will you stay with me until she gets here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded and squeezed her hand which wasn’t holding her phone “I’ll stay. As long as I can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete would have given anything to be able to replace the hard mattress under him with his own or the paper thin sheet with a thread count of about eight with the thick comforter which was at home. There were about 14 inches of snow and 1200 feet of icy roads between him and that, though. The idea of risking the blizzard and walking home was getting more and more tempting but every time he got a moment to himself, there was another car crash or tree falling on someone or slipping down a set of icy stairs. He barely had time to close his eyes in an on-call room between surgeries.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew he wouldn’t have time to sleep but at least he might get lucky and be able to rest his eyes. He’d never gotten all that lucky, though, and almost as soon as he laid down his pager was going off. At least he wasn’t being paged to the ER, hopefully it would be something low stress and manageable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Female, 23, 4 months pregnant, head on collision with a car skidding on ice.” The nuse said, handing him a clipboard of labs and charts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete thanked her and pulled the curtain back “hi, Ms. Barnard, my name is Dr. Wentz, I hear you’ve had a pretty rough night.” The woman nodded, her jaw tight. “I’m just gonna make sure you don’t have any bigger problems then we’ll let you rest,” he turned back to the nurse “have you paged neonatal?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dr. Stump is already on his way, sir,” she said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete almost requested someone different. He hated that the thought even crossed his mind. This woman was in pain and he was worried about his interpersonal drama. “Perfect,” he said, putting the rest aside “I’m going to get you taken up for a CT-Scan so we can get a better look at how you’re doing,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is my baby okay?” she asked, moving one hand to her stomach, concern heavy on her voice “please just tell me if he’s okay,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete hated this part. “The CT-Scan is going to help us know for sure but that’s the hope,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took a shaky inhale and nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ms. Bernard?” Patrick said, laying one hand on Pete’s shoulder briefly, making him jump. He moved then to lean over and shake her hand. He was so professional. Too professional. “Dr. Stump, I’m going to be keeping an eye on your baby and making sure this all goes as planned.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just getting her ready for a CT-Scan,” Pete said, looking up at Patrick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perfect. I’ll stay out of your way and keep an eye on the baby’s vitals.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shane. That's his name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled. “Well let’s get you up to that scan and make sure you and Shane are okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete leaned over his keyboard, resting his head on the table. “Thank you, God,” he breathed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you were religious,” Patrick commented, leaning over him to see the screen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not. Not really.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hard not to at least believe in miracles sometimes, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As many problems as the universe creates…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes it fixes them too,” Patrick said “ready to go tell her she’s walking away from this with just a few bruises?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded. He was suddenly all too aware of how close Patrick was. He wheeled his chair back to give him space. “You go. I’m going to keep an eye on the ER.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m asking you to come with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete raised an eyebrow and glanced at him “I thought you wanted space?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick sighed and took a step back, leaning against the table “okay,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay?” Pete said uncomfortably.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t stopped feeling awful about that since I said it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed and looked back at the screen as an excuse to not look at him. “Patrick…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just… my first husband was my boss. My second was my coworker. And I told mysel that I’d never do that again but…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete swallowed. It would be easy to forgive him. To listen to his sob story and take him on his word and put it all behind him. Was that the right decision, though? Would that make it all worse? “What do you want me to say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want you to say anything,” Patrick said, looking up at the ceiling “but let me apologize. Again. I’m sorry I snapped at you but I’m scared. I’m scared that you remind me so much of them and that should have made me run from the start but I can’t make myself do it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said you hated how I make you feel. Do you think anything good comes from that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hate how happy being around you makes me, Pete, because I’m terrified of how badly you could hurt me. So it’s easier to push you away than let myself get attached to you. But I did anyway and now I’m-” she shrugged, crossing his arms anxiously over his stomach “so, yeah, I’m an asshole, and I told you to back off, but not because you’re not an amazing guy who makes me a lot happier than I’ve been in a really really long time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete pressed his palms against his eyesockets, the steady pressure and abstract shapes behind his eyes preferable to this “you’re the most complicated man I’ve ever met,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Patrick said, almost laughing before his voice broke “and I’m an asshole and you don’t deserve to have to put up with me I just also couldn’t… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete breathed for a moment, the muffled sound of footsteps and voices from outside the room the only sound. Pete could hear Patrick stop holding his breath after a moment. “I’m going to go tell Ms. Bernard she’s okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you wa-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete cut him off and shook his head “give me a minute,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand shook as his thumb hovered over the call button on Hayley’s contact page. He’d been sitting on the floor of a storage closet for nearly 10 minutes, begging for his pager to go off so he’d have a distraction. No such luck. He nearly jumped so hard that he nicked a rack of surynges over as the door opened. He was about to stant and spew a bad excuse about looking for masks before Hayley sat down in front of him. “Talk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When - how’d you know I was here?” Pete stammered, more questions arising than he had time to ask.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Patrick asked me to do damage control.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Patrick talked to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed and took his hands “he’s worried about you,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He started it,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hid a smile and shook her head “you’ve got to hear how childish you sound.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned back against the shelf “what do I do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed and leaned him closer “I don’t know, babe, I wish I could tell you. It’s complicated. He’s complicated. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> complicated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m taking a vow of celibacy. I’m becoming a monk.” He muttered into her hair, wrapping his arms around her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna have to talk to him, aren’t I?’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hesitated, rubbing his arm “he says you don’t have to. You should, though. And I know I’m supposed to be your friend and take your side here but…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He furrowed his eyebrows “seriously?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s got baggage and he definitely deserves to be given hell over what he said but so do you,” she squeezed his wrist “people are complicated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What would you do? If it were you instead of me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled sadly “take a vow of celibacy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes “I’m serious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If it were me…” she paused, thinking “I think I’d give him a chance.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I promise there's going to be less drama soon!</p><p>I hope you liked this chapter and the fic! Feel free to leave me a comment or reach out to me on tumblr, I love hearing from you guys. Your comments always make me smile and keep me motivated to keep up with writing. Thanks for reading! See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Pete was only where he was because of people giving him second chances. Then third and fourth and fifth. Everyone had every opportunity to give up on him. He’d relied on people giving him the benefit of the doubt for so long. He never would have gotten through university without it. He never would have gotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>into</span>
  </em>
  <span> university without it. Nevermind med school and residency. Not very many people got as lucky as he had. Patrick had messed up, and badly, but Pete had done far worse before and had friends who forgave him. He found Patrick in one of the lounges, a laptop in front of him but his glasses were on the table, meaning he wasn’t actually reading anything on the screen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Pete pushed the door open, Patrick jumped to push his glasses on. “Dr. Wentz, I can head out if you need the room, I was j-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete leaned against the table and shook his head “I don’t need the room. I do need to talk to you, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick cleared his throat and stood, anxiously smoothing out his coat “I should apologize again, what I said was completely uncalled for and I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete cut him off again “you probably should, and it was, but do it over drinks instead?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some of the worry on Patrick’s face faded to excitement. It had been a long time since he’d seen his eyes light up like that. “Really?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shoved his hands into his pockets “you’re on pretty thin ice. But I miss you, and I’ve fucked up before too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Colleagues?” Patrick asked, extending his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook it and laughed “were we not before?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would it be too presumptuous to say friends then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete fixed Patrick’s glasses, which had been crooked since he put them on in a rush “buy me a drink later on and we’ll talk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. Whatever you want. That’s the least I can do.” Patrick adjusted the collar of his shirt. Like most people in the medical field, he’d probably had no choice but to get good at hiding his emotions, he still couldn’t hide the red creeping up his neck, though. “Again, I apologize. What I said was-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete reached over and pushed his hand away from his quickly-wrinkling collar “I get it. I mean, I don’t. I don’t get what you’ve been through but it seems like something pretty tough so. It’s-” he stopped himself. It wasn’t fine. But it also was understandable. “Just, y’know, don’t take it out on me again,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Patrick said, letting his hand drop back to the counter behind him “I’ve come to the conclusion that clearly I can’t avoid the way I feel about you, lashing out only serves to damage both of us, so…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete almost missed his phrasing as he was caught up on not feeling too bad for Patrick. He hesitated, leaning back against the table as he thought about how to put his thoughts into words without sounding completely socially inept. Pete wasn’t stupid enough to think his and Patrick’s relationship was completely platonic. Clearly there was something between them. He just didn’t know where Patrick stood on the matter. He’d made it pretty clear that he didn’t want to sleep with his colleagues that night, had his mind changed?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick didn’t give him the chance, though, as he reached into his pocket for his pager and glanced at Pete “I’ve got a consult in five. I’ll see you around, though? I’d suggest drinks sooner but...” they both glanced at the still-raging storm out the window.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete swallowed and nodded, his mouth suddenly feeling too try and his mind too slow to form proper words. “Yes, right, totally.” He managed to repeat dumbly. “Just - page me when you’ve got a night off. I guess. When you get done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled, turning in the doorway to face him again before he left the room “or you could give me your number and I could test you. Like real people do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Pete exhaled. He really was out of practice. Just the concept of asking for Patrick’s number had seemed completely foreign. “That’s. Yeah.” He paused for a moment, the gears in his head probably turning audibly with how much he was trying to figure out a casual way to continue this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick saved him by instead pressing his phone into his palm, the screen open to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>new contact</span>
  </em>
  <span> page “sorry I never asked earlier. If you haven't gathered… I’m kind of new to this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete quickly entered his name and number before handing it back “I think I am too,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick shoved his phone back into his pocket before pushing his hair out of his face “don’t worry. I’m a fast learner. And a good teacher.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you are,” Pete bit his tongue to stop himself from rambling “I won’t keep you any longer if you have a consult,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s eyes widened and he stepped back “right. Oops. I - yeah, I -” he pointed his thumb back towards the door “yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head as he watched Patrick go. He didn’t understand him. Maybe he never would. He wanted to try, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed, head in his hands and elbows on his knees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re melodramatic,” Hayley said, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning her forehead against his spine. Pete was too tired to be surprised. “Patrick told me you were falling asleep down here. Need me to drag you to an on-call room?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that,” he said, stifling a yawn, then pointing to the television in the corner of the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tonight’s storm is expected to continue until Sunday. Use extreme caution on roads and avoid driving unless in an emergency situation. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yikes,” she breathed, hoping over the line of chairs to sit next to him “I guess we’ll be here for a while then, huh? You think things at home are going to be okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete picked up his phone. Luckily he still had decent signal. Who knew how long that would last.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stay safe tonight. Things seem pretty bad. Let me know if you need anything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aiden?” Hayley asked, she probably knew the answer, though. Pete didn’t know many other people outside the hospital.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I’m going to text my parents and make sure they’re okay. Geez, and ask my neighbors to keep an eye on my place. It’s going to be a long night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She patted his knee and hummed “text your people then go lay down, okay? Just watching the news all night won’t get you anywhere.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shook his head “I’m fine. I just need a coffee and something to take my mind off of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked up as both of their pagers started going off “think you’ve got that,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perfect,” Pete said, standing up, “perfect,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just promise me you’ve got things under control?” she said as they walked towards the ER at a brisk pace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As much as I ever do,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You guys too, huh?” Patrick said as he joined them in the hallway “must be all hands on deck,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s gonna be a long night,” Hayley sighed, pulling her hair up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure is,” Pete muttered as the sirens came into earshot.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I think you’re in here more than I am,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete looked up to see Patrick in the doorway of the nursery “hm? Oh, yeah, it’s quiet in here,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t argue with you there,” Patrick walked over and sat beside him, the dim lighting emphasizing the subtle lines on his face. No amount of bright smiles and friendly introductions to patients could hide the stress and age that he was starting to show.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s a cute kid,” Pete hummed, taking one hand out from the incubator to let Patrick replace him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His parents named him Waldo,” Patrick said, hiding a smile behind pursed lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yikes, good luck, Waldo,” Pete chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick shifted in his chair and for a moment Pete thought he was going to lean against him. He didn’t. Instead, he just put his hand on his shoulder “born 4 weeks early and the biggest hurdle he’ll have to overcome is being named Waldo,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was almost named Kingston,” Pete said quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick glanced at him, the corner of his eyes wrinkling “could be worse,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s still pretty bad,” Pete elbowed him gently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better than Waldo,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shhh, you’re gonna make Waldo insecure,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick yawned and shook his head “do you really think we’re gonna be snowed in all weekend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what they’re saying,” he said, rubbing his forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You worried?” Patrick asked, his hand briefly moving to Pete’s back before he let it drop back onto his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just need to make sure someone is able to feed my dog,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you had a dog,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm, he’d like you. You should come over and meet him sometime,” Pete said before realizing what he’d said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick pursed his lips before leaning back in his chair “Pete…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t - I was speaking literally,” Pete said, trying to keep the stammer off his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re not doing this here,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Patrick,” Pete sighed. They were going in circles. He’d wanted to give Patrick a second chance but clearly, he was working through too much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Patrick said, standing up. To Pete’s surprise, he took Pete’s hand and pulled him up as well “I mean we’re not doing this </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, because I have an hour off and I really want to kiss you but not in front of the infants.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this chapter was late! Also sorry to all the Waldos out there. I hope you like this chapter, things are going to start looking up for the boys! I can't wait to keep sharing this story with you guys so thanks so much for reading! As always, I love getting comments and hearing from you guys so don't hesitate to reach out with any thoughts! They keep me motivated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I thought you didn’t do this?” Pete observed, somewhere between teasing and serious, as he let Patrick pull him into a supply closet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> do this,” Patrick sighed, pulling Pete closer to kiss him like they’d been doing it for years “that’s my issue.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Long as you’re only doing it with me,” Pete muttered, bracing himself with one arm against a shelf “right? Because if we’re sharing flaws I have a horrible jealousy problem. And I fall too hard for people.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick wrapped his arms around Pete’s neck, threatening to pull him over for a moment before Pete caught his footing “I thought I was the crazy one,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Easy,” Pete chuckled, leaning into him “maybe neither of us are in a good position to judge each other,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I had to buy you drinks before you forgave me?” Patrick asked, carding his fingers through his hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m open to suggestions,” Pete wasn’t going to admit he’d already forgiven Patrick. Not even to himself. At least not out loud “still sure you’re good with this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick sighed before it became a quiet laugh “I’m not good at taking things slow. But I promise not to freak out on you this time around.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s enough for me,” Pete laughed before kissing him again. He only broke away when the muffled voices from the hallway started to get louder. He felt Patrick open his mouth and rested his finger against his lips “don’t get us caught,” he whispered under his breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Speak for yourself,” Patrick whispered, taking Pete’s earlobe between his teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, ‘Trick,” Pete mumbled, looking up at the water stains on the ceiling, “I thought you were trying to be professional,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I gave up. It only makes both of us stressed.” Patrick glanced at the door as the voices moved off again, giving Pete a chance to push his chin up and kiss his neck “plus -” he breathed, gripping Pete’s hair until he winced “it’s only unprofessional if we get caught,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s definitely not how it works,” Pete chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want to ask Chief Cassidy and find out? I’m sure she’ll tell you,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good point,”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete sat down on the bench against the window. The sky was still painted grey with clouds, but the grey was preferable to the white of constant snowfall. He had an hour left before he was off call. He just needed a quiet hour. Usually, Pete welcomed the chaos and drama of being on call. It made it all seem worth it when he was able to fix something broken. Tonight he didn’t need something to fix, though, he needed time to think. Hayley was probably around somewhere. He could probably find her if he tried hard enough. He could page her, even. Somehow that didn’t feel like the right call. He needed a night truly to himself. He pulled his phone out to check the weather again. They were still advising people to stay off the roads. He knew better than to try and drive tonight, nevermind walk, but… it was tempting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed and leaned his head against the window before opening his messages.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You guys hanging in alright? Looks like the storm might be clearing on this side of town.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t expect a response. It was late. Hopefully, they’d both be in bed by now and for all, he knew they’d lost power or the cell tower days ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Once it’s safe again do you want to give your dad a break and spend the night at my place?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To his surprise, the three dots popped up on the bottom of the screen, showing that Jude was typing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jude: Dad’s going to kill you for texting this late. Things are okay here. We lost power for a while today but it’s back on now. Are you still at work?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah. Until things clear up it’s not safe to drive so I’m going to sleep here until things clear up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jude: Do you sleep in those uncomfy beds?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled, leaning back against the railing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They give us extra uncomfy ones that way we wake up when they need us</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jude: I’m not gonna be a doctor then. I like having a comfy bed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Good idea. Now get some sleep. Let me know when things clear up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried not to let himself think about whether Patrick would like Jude.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just three more weeks of school, huh?” Pete asked into the phone. He only had the time it would take him to walk from the OR to the elevator, back to his locker, then to the lobby, but he wasn’t about to miss a conversation with Jude.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. Then exam week which is… eh.” He could practically hear Jude’s eyeroll through the phone “it’s alright.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve just gotta get through it, bud, then you’re home free, right?” Dr. Levy walked up to Pete in the hallway, opening his mouth to interrupt Pete but he held up his hand to stop him. He was off call in less than five minutes. He wasn’t going to let himself get caught in another procedure or long conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re such an old man,” Jude teased, a slight laugh on their voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Pete smiled, hitting the down button on the elevator “well. That’s what happens.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heading out, Dr. Wentz?” Dr. Nezzar asked, stepping into the elevator with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Excuse me,” Pete said, hoping not to sound rude but also really not wanting to make small talk with his interns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Jude asked, the background noise rising as they adjusted the phone’s position.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just talking to a colleague. Don’t worry about it. What are you doing tonight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Homework. Mainly. Ms. Hough gave us this really long paper.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah?” he asked, stepping out of the elevator quickly once the doors opened, not wanting to be accosted by yet another person “what’s your paper on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Something about Russia and some war,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has your dad already given you the ‘try your best’ speech?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. And the ‘sometimes we have to do things even when we don’t want to' one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright. I’ll be the fun dad though and remind you not to stress yourself out too much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The real fun dad thing to do would be to take the weekend off,” Jude complained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed, switching his phone to speaker mode so he could change into jeans and a Smashing Pumpkins shirt he’d had since his residency. His time was limited. He hated to miss a second of time with Jude but he also didn’t want to keep Patrick waiting any longer. He threw on a coat over his shirt before grabbing his bag. It was nearing the heat of summer but nights in Chicago could still be vicious. So could kids, apparently. “I’ll see what I can do. I thought you were excited to have this weekend with your grandparents?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess. I just wish we were doing something. Grandpa just puts on cartoons when I’m there so there’s not much to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete gritted his teeth as he made his way back towards the lobby “is that worse than sitting in the hospital lobby?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jude laughed. Not the reaction he’d expected. “At least there the nurses talk to me and sometimes you see cool stuff come in,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete exhaled “your dad is gonna kill me if he finds out you said that,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why? I don’t see why it matters so much,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s…” he hesitated, meeting Patrick’s eyes as he stepped into the lobby “it’s complicated. I’ll talk to him, though, you just focus on that paper. I’ll call you in the morning, ‘kay, bud?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Dad,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Jude,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he hung up and slipped his phone into his coat pocket, Patrick crossed his arm over his stomach nervously. He looked so different out of his scrubs. People are trained from a young age to trust doctors, to assume that they always knew what to do next, they didn’t, not that they could say that. Out of scrubs, Patrick looked a lot less sure of himself out of his scrubs. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Pete said from across the waiting room as he walked over to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick looked up from the hospital brochure he was pretending to read “not a problem. Did your meeting with the Jones’ go well?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded and extended his hand to help Patrick up “uneventful. No major progress. How are you?” The feeling of Patrick’s hand in his, even if for just a moment while he stood, made Pete’s hand feel clammy. He pulled his hand back once Patrick let go and wiped his palm on his jeans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop,” Patrick chuckled, reaching out for his hands “let’s skip this part. The awkward part and the small talk? We’ve been making out in supply closets for three days. We don’t need to do this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled and swung his key chain around his finger “good point. Ready to head out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick took his arm and walked towards the door with him “you won’t be driving anywhere yet,” he said, gesturing towards the parking lot where most of the cars were still covered in snow “but there’s a cafe down the street that I’ve heard has really great sandwiches.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete craned his neck to see where his car was sitting under a pile of snow “I’m open to anything that isn’t from a vending machine or the cafeteria.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you been home yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head “not yet. My neighbors say the place is fine, though, and my dog is enjoying his sleepover at their house. You?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Briefly. Checked on the windows and power and all but then I got called in again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete glanced at him “have you gotten any sleep yet today? We take a rain check if you need,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick patted Pete’s arm “I’ve done an eighteen-hour surgery before. I can do lunch with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick sighed, leaning his head briefly against his shoulder “I’ve been looking forward to going on a real date with you since the storm hit. Stop trying to talk me out of it.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Wow I'm posting on time. This is truly unprecedented. Thank you for all the support even through my weird schedule! It's been really tough getting chapters up lately but what keep me going is seeing that you guys are still enjoying them so don't hesitate to leave me a comment. They keep me motivated! See you next week!</p><p>Also, I am going to start wrapping this fic up in not too long so follow me on tumblr (lupinwritings) if you want to keep up with my next ideas!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Patrick snorted, leaning over the table to wipe the edge of Pete’s mouth with his thumb “are you always this messy an eater?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete rolled his eyes and caught Patrick’s wrist “shut up. You have spinach in your teeth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick turned red and covered his mouth with his hand “jeez. Guess I’ve been more excited for non-cafeteria food than I thought.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You and me both.” Pete laughed, watched Patrick try and subtly pick the spinach out of his teeth “c’mere,” he eventually sighed, leaning over to push Patrick’s hand aside “let me,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is so invasive,” Patrick muttered, though, with Pete’s fingers in his mouth it came out as “dhis  is so ivasive,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete wiped his hand on a napkin once the spinach was out from his teeth “that’s the least invasive thing I’ve done to you all week,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick shook his head, looking away. He tried to play it off as annoyance but Pete had a feeling he was more bashful than he wanted to let on. “You’ve got a point,” he mumbled, “you’re still weird,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re the one who got attached to me.” Pete teased, nudging his foot under the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick glanced at him, trying to hide his smile “no accounting for taste. I’ve been meaning to ask,” Patrick said, sitting up straighter again “your kid-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete hadn’t been prepared for that one. He’d been so worried about everything else with Patrick he’d forgotten that there could be other issues. Patrick had been married twice and never had kids. He probably didn’t want them. At this point in his life was it worth it to invest himself into a relationship that he knew wouldn’t go anywhere? Where could they go from here if Patrick wouldn’t want anything to do with Jude?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you heard anything since the storm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete coughed, furrowing his brows “is that all?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick pursed his lips, glancing away again “sorry, is that an off-limits topic?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head quickly “no, sorry, I just - yeah, I talked to them right after I got out of surgery. They’re fine. Thank god.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled “glad to hear it.’ his smile faltered for a moment, his eyes flicking to the table “and please do let me know if I cross a line when it comes to your family. I like this. I like you. But I don’t want to intrude into your personal life if I’m not wanted there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete hadn’t considered that far ahead. He probably should have. He’d somehow assumed that things would be easy now. Things were a thousand times more complicated with Patrick than it had been with Aiden because he had Jude. He couldn’t make decisions with just his own feelings in mind or just their relationship in mind, which sucked because if he had to he’d pick Jude over Patrick. He always would. No matter how much he liked Patrick and how much they’d been through in order to make this work. He’d have to tell Jude at some point, and he didn’t know what they’d say. “You’re doing fine,” he eventually said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Patrick breathed “let me know when I’m not anymore. Because I have a habit of messing things up when it comes to you because when I’m around you I don’t know how to act. So keep me in line, alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to have to forgive yourself eventually. I’ve had a lot worse said to me by people with a lot worse excuses.” Pete said. He couldn’t even pretend to hold anything against Patrick anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick leaned back in the cafe booth “only if you promise to not let me get away with something like that again,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete narrowed his eyes at him in mock annoyance “I can work with that,” he set his elbow on the table, holding his pinkie up “promise,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick laughed softly, mirroring Pete’s movement and wrapping his pinkie around Pete’s “you’re ridiculous,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Next best thing to a blood pact,” he joked, shifting his grip hold Patrick’s hand as he let his arm lay flat against the table. It felt like something normal people do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Patrick smiled, squeezing Pete’s hand “very smooth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. I thought so too.” He paused for a moment “I’ll be even smoother when I haven’t just gotten off one of the longest shifts of my life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m sure you’ve had your share of dates when you were a big rockstar.” Patrick smiled, squeezing his hand again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete rolled his eyes “shut up. And for the record, I was probably too high to be able to pull any real moves back then. And in my last relationship, I was on the edge of a relapse half the time. This is the best I’ve been at the start of a relationship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He realized from the way that Patrick’s eyes widened that he’d freaked him out. He swallowed, fearing for a moment that Patrick might get up and leave. Instead, he squeezed his hand and nodded, his lips pursed as he thought. “My first marriage… he was my boss while I was interning at a hospital. It was my first year of med school and he said if I told anyone we’d both lose our jobs. We got married after I quit. We got divorced when I figured out that he was dating one of his new interns. My second husband moved to private practice two years ago and moved to New York. The stress of moving and everything…” he sighed “and then I realized that it wasn’t the moving that made me hate it, it was the fact that he didn’t ask me. So I guess we both have our baggage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was an odd discussion for a first date but they’d had an odd start to their relationship. This only made sense. “I also promise not to cheat on you or move to New York without asking you. For the record.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick ran his thumb over Pete’s. His hands were warm. So was his smile. He hid his warmth behind sharp edges and professionalism but Pete wanted to dig out whatever was under there. “We should talk about stuff other than work more often,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick hummed “what should we talk about then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You,” Pete said without having to think about it. Maybe he should have with the way that Patrick cocked his head in confusion or maybe amusement. He was hard to read. But then again Patrick looked cute when he was confused or maybe amused. “I like hearing you talk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s…” Patrick sighed before laughing “that’s the least helpful thing you could have said. I don’t know what you want me to say.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Pete responded, “did you always want to study medicine?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I almost went into music. Guess maybe in a different life we’d both still be in that scene.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Weird to think about,” Pete said, his mind wandering back to when his life was a different kind of crazy. The kind of crazy where the screaming was cheering instead of angry patients or doctors and when the adrenaline rush came from crowd surfing and mosh pits instead of cutting into people “the me from this timeline is very happy where I am, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Patrick smiled “me too.” He paused for a moment before letting go of his hand to stifle a yawn “you want to get out of here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You good to walk home in this weather?” Pete said, standing up and holding his arm out for Patrick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you trying to take me home with you?” Patrick replied, furrowing his brows as he stood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete felt his face heat up and he hoped that Patrick couldn’t see him blushing “I just want to make sure you’re safe.” He smiled “and besides, I am way too tired to sleep with you right now. Even if I was trying to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank god,” Patrick chuckled, “me too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me walk you home at least?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Patrick teased as they walked out onto the sidewalk. The air was slightly warmer than before, but maybe that was just Pete’s perception of it. Patrick shook the snow out of his hair before giving up as more fell to replace it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not working tomorrow, right?” Pete asked, trying to keep his footing as Patrick tightened his grip on his forearm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to miss me that much?” he teased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not quite what I was going for.” He said, resisting the urge to reach over and brush Patrick’s quickly dampening hair out of his eyes “you need the rest,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We all do. But the hospital can’t just shut down because we’re tired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I assume that means you’re working, then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m working,” Patrick confirmed “but I’m not going in until late so I’ve got time to sleep. You should do the same. My place is just down here,” he said, gesturing to the next ally “are you coming with me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want me to come with you?” Pete asked. He didn’t want to impose or make the situation awkward but he also didn’t want to say goodbye yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Patrick smiled, gently tugging Pete’s arm as he turned down the smaller sidewalk. Pete managed to pull his eyes away from Patrick enough to look around him. This was definitely a side entrance to a larger complex, the main entrance must have been on the other street. “Hey,” Patrick said, pulling him closer as he leaned against the door, keys dangling from his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Pete breathed. He realized that they were alone. Being alone in a storage closet or an on-call room wasn’t the same. He waited a moment to see if Patrick would say anything else before he gave up and pushed him back against the door. Patrick leaned up to kiss him, meeting him halfway. The ally wasn’t the msot romantic spot imaginable but he would take what he could get. He moved his hands to Patrick’s hips and then into the back pockets of his jeans, feeling the way his body curved up against his own. He stopped when he felt Patrick’s breath hitch in his throat. “You okay?” He whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick nodded “I’m great. But we need to stop, because I’m too tired to do this right now,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Pete chuckled “me too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to go inside now, okay?” Patrick said, slowly pulling away as he unlocked the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete nodded and let himself take a step back “I’ll see you soon,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick nodded, opening the door “thanks for today. I’ll- I’m going now,” he laughed “have a good - rest of your day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get some rest, Patrick,” Pete laughed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You too.” Patrick grinned before closing the door again.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! As always I love getting comments because they keep me motivated to write and keep up with my posting schedule! See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>One-month anniversaries were overinflated, over-commercialized, and overhyped. That’s what Pete kept reminding himself as he glanced down the card aisle of the pharmacy. He’d meant to talk to Patrick about it and make sure they were on the same page but they’d both been so busy. They’d been insanely busy all month, just like every other month. They’d spent most of it making out in supply closets and on-call rooms, grabbing food from the cafeteria or the cafe down the street, occasionally going out for drinks, and occasionally going home together. They hadn’t slept together yet, which was an odd change for Pete who was more used to the one-night stands of his youth. They’d talked about it but when it came to actually getting home one or both of them was always exhausted, then they’d wake up to someone’s pager going off and they’d have to go. Pete liked what they had, though. It was comfortable. He’d started to think they’d never get to this point but here they were. And he was standing in the card aisle looking at over-priced cards and gifts with cheesy jokes, poetry lines, and pictures of puppies. He welcomed the distraction as his phone buzzed in his pocket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jude: Jackson’s parents are taking him to the Cubs game next week. Can we go? Dad said he’s working and I should ask you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t his weekend to watch Jude but he couldn’t say no to that. Then it hit him. He really was a genius sometimes. No wonder he became a doctor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sure thing. I’ll see what I can get for tickets ASAP. I have a friend who I want you to meet. Is that okay with you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jude: Is your friend nice?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled as he replied, making his way back to the front of the store, happy to the free of the commercialized hell that was the card aisle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I think you’ll like him. He’d been pretty excited to meet you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jude: k. That’s okay then. Can we get burritos first?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We can get whatever you want. I’ve gotta check out but I’ll talk to you when I get home.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jude: okay. Thanks!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Pete checked out with the frozen pizzas and goldfish that sustained him most nights, he called Patrick from the car. He was working and he didn’t expect a response but he wanted to check in with him as soon as possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” Patrick answered after a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh hey,” Pete said, leaning back in his chair, “I thought you’d be working,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have anything booked for a few minutes. What’s up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’re you up to next Saturday?” he asked, hoping to sound casual. He’d asked Patrick out plenty of times before and it hadn’t made him feel like this. Was Jude going to like him? Was he going to like Jude? Did Patrick even like baseball? Shit. He should have thought this through more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Next Saturday I am…” he paused, presumably checking his schedule “I don’t go in until Sunday so I guess probably just watching tv. Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you like baseball?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick laughed “are you asking me to go watch the game at your place?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of these days he’d have to get over the way Patrick’s laugh still made him feel a little out of breath “I’m asking you if you want to go to the game with me and Jude this weekend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard Patrick inhale “are you sure?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete swallowed “you don't have to if you don’t want to, I just thought-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Patrick cut him off quickly “it’s not that. I just don’t want to impose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want you to. I really like you, Patrick, and I think Jude will too. They’re the most important thing in my life and I want you to be a part of that too.” He wasn’t sure quite why but his throat felt tight as he said that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I’d love to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed in relief and smiled “okay. I’ll let you get back to work, I jsut wanted to know before buying tickets.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll pay you back if that’s easier,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you won’t.” Pete chuckled “I’m asking you out and I’m paying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick sighed, trying to hide the amusement in his voice “I really hate you sometimes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm, I’ll see you tonight if you’re still working,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure I will be,” Patrick chuckled “see you then,”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Pete woke up suddenly as he felt a hand on his arm. The on-call room was dark and left him feeling disoriented as he tried to make sense of the world around him. “Relax,” Patrick said, shifting and lay beside him “just me,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete moved back slightly to give him room before wrapping his arm around Patrick “you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick shrugged “just had to break up a fight. The mom wants to get a written form saying to save the baby over her if something goes wrong and the dad’s mad about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete pressed his face into Patrick’s hair “anything else on your mind?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick hesitated a moment, running his hand up Pete’s arm “and… I’m also a little nervous about this weekend,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled “I figured you would be,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I know you say they’re going to like me and it’s going to be fine but I’m still so nervous. I just -” Pete rubbed circles into the small of his back as he talked “I know this is important to you,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is. And so are you. And even though I</span>
  <em>
    <span> know</span>
  </em>
  <span> it’s going to be fine, we will make it work no matter what.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Patrick sighed, shifting closer to Pete and pulling the blankets up over them “I just don’t know, you know?” he mumbled into his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete stroked his hair and nodded “did you watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick laughed and looked up at him “what? Um, yeah, when I was a kid,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Talk to them about it. Jude loves Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. And their favourite ice cream flavour is strawberry but only the good kind with real strawberries in it, otherwise, they order mint chocolate chip, and they hate olives and won’t eat an olive pizza even if their side only has cheese because if it’s in the whole box it tastes bad, and they’re a really good painter but they wish they played the drums because they think that’s cooler, and they’re going to like you,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled “they seem like a great kid,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They are, and you’re great too, so you’ll get along fine,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you keep saying,” Patrick said “sorry I woke you up,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like you waking me up, you should do it more often,”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s your boyfriend, right?” Jude asked, putting their feet up on the dashboard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete reached over and pushed his legs “stop that. And how’d you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t introduce me to your friends, and even when you do you don’t worry this much about whether I’ll like them or not. So he must be your boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete sighed and shook his head “you’re right. And I like him a lot, and he’s really worried you’re going to hate him, so be nice,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m nice,” Jude complained, glancing at the apartment building beside them “that him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I’m late, you know how my neighbor is,” Patrick said, opening the car door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jude, hop in the back for me, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do that,” Patrick protested as Jude grumbled and climbed into the back seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Patrick, get in the car,” Pete said, reaching over to open the passenger side door and then take Patrick’s hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick rolled his eyes and got in, turning around to see Jude “it’s nice to finally meet you. Your dad makes you out to be pretty cool,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad doesn’t really talk about you very often,” Jude said bluntly and Pete looked up in a silent prayer before they continued “but he seems really happy when he does so I guess he likes you,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled, pulling Patrick’s hand over to kiss his knuckles “I do. I like him a lot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you like burritos? Because dad and I always get burritos before games.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds great,” Patrick responded, squeezing his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete leaned over and whispered “you’re doing great,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick let out a breath, barely hiding the shake to it “I hope so. So, your dad tells me you’re pretty into Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I still have all the old cartoons on DVD if you want to borrow them,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> old ones?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick laughed and nodded “yes, the really old ones. Because I’m super old and even still keep DVDs.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe Patrick should bring them over someday? We can watch them all together,” Pete suggested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Jude said with more excitement than Pete saw from his very often “they don’t even have all of them on Netflix so I’ve only seen some of them,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like a plan,” Pete said, squeezing Patrick’s hand again. This was going well.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Friday! There's probably going to be another 1-2 chapters of this fic but it'll be wrapping up within the next few weeks! Thank you for reading! As always I love reading your comments because they keep me motivated and make me happy! See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Don’t stay up too late, kiddo,” Pete said, reaching into the back seat to ruffle Jude’s hair. After the game, Jude had asked to stay overnight at his friend’s house. Usually, that would have upset Pete more - losing some of his time with Jude - but Jude wasn’t the only person who mattered anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t,” Jude said, one foot already out the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And text me when you’re ready for me to pick you up,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete could have sworn Jude rolled their eyes “I will, dad,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And please don’t watch another R-rated movie because the last time you did -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jude cut him off “I didn’t sleep right for weeks, I remember, that was when I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>seven</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dad, I’m almost a teenager,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Pete said, pursing his lips and nodding “alright, have a good night,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love you, Dad,” Jude said, so fast that Pete almost missed it, as they jumped out of the car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love you too,” Pete said, watching them walk up to the house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick, who had been waiting silently in the passenger seat, leaned over and pressed his forehead into his Pete’s shoulder “you’re amazing,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled and nuzzled his hair. Usually, his hair smelled like sterilizing alcohol and the cheap soap they stocked the hospital showers with. Today he smelled like apricot shampoo and cologne mixed with sunscreen. It was much more him. “Why’s that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just trust me,” Patrick said, pulling away and arching his back as he stretched. Pete forced his eyes back onto the road as Patrick yawned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You tired?” he asked, letting one hand snake over to Patrick’s thigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A bit,” Patrick said, interlacing their fingers and squeezing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want me to drop you off at home then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick hesitated for a moment “do you want to?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete looked up at the roof of his car and exhaled slowly “if you didn’t, I was thinking we could order takeout and spend the night at my place,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick squeezed his hand before reaching over to hold his chin “no pressure for anything more?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete let Patrick pull his face to make him look at him before leaning over to kiss him briefly “no pressure for anything more,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s do that,” Patrick smiled, letting go of him, “I had a lot of fun today,” he continued as Pete started the car and pulled out of the suburban driveway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Me too. And I think Jude did too. Usually, they let me know when they’re not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick exhaled and tilted his chair back slightly “thank god,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled and glanced at him, not allowing his gaze to linger “were you really that worried?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How could I not be? I want…” he trailed off and sighed, looking out the window until Pete reached over and stroked his hair “I just want this to work, I’ve screwed up so much in my life, especially with you, but I don’t want to,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete wanted to cut him off and tell him that he wasn’t going to screw anything up but he also knew Patrick needed to work through this so instead he just drove and listened. “You okay?” He asked when Patrick stopped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick nodded “I’m okay. Jude’s a sweet kid. You’re a pretty good dad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete hummed “I’ve screwed up a lot of stuff too,” he pulled Patrick’s hand over to kiss his knuckles “but we move past it,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick chuckled, pulling his hand back “thank you for giving me so many chances,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re being sappy today,” Pete observed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m tired. And I’m just really happy it went well. And I like you so much.” He paused “and I’m going to stop before I say something that I regret,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled and glanced at him “then can I say something I’ll regret?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick laughed “I guess?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m falling in love with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>They never actually ordered takeout that night. Pete woke up the next morning with another person beside him for the first time in a very long time. He wrapping his arm around Patrick and pulled him closer, causing him to shift slightly. Then he reached over for his phone to see a flood of messages from Hayley who he’d ghosted after telling her that Patrick was spending the night. He’d fill her in later. He had other priorities now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What time do you go in today?” Patrick asked, his voice still heavy with sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete checked his watch “I’ve got a few hours,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick groaned and pulled Pete’s arm against his chest, making Pete’s heart flutter “let’s just quit and stay in bed,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete kissed his shoulder before pushing his face into the back of his neck “you make a tempting offer,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that a no?” Patrick teased, rolling over to face him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ask me again and I might just change my mind,” he muttered. The room was still too dark to see him well but he could feel him “how’re you feeling?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Euphoric,” Patrick chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And physically?” Pete asked, running his fingers up and down his spine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick hummed “you did a number on me, but I’ll recover in time to ask you to do it again,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete rolled onto his back and tried to focus on the darkness above him “Jesus, ‘Trick,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick chuckled and wrapped his arms around Pete, laying his head on his chest “you love me,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete hoped Patrick couldn’t feel the way his heart all but stopped “I do,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-” Patrick started “I didn’t mean like that,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete smiled “not what you said last night,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are we crazy? Am I crazy for being so in love with you after a month?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete shook his head “I’ve been in love with you for months,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick smiled and kissed him “me too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were interrupted by footsteps and then heavy breathing from beside the bed “Hemmy, not now,” Patrick chuckled and pushed his face further into Pete’s neck before leaning up to bite at his earlobe. “Fucking hell,” Pete said, closing his eyes and letting one arm hang off the bed to keep Hemmingway from barking “you two are so needy,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t compare me to your dog,” Patrick laughed, shifting to straddle him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete swallowed and ran his free hand up Patrick’s thigh “yessir.” Before Patrick could open his mouth Hemmingway let out a loud bark “not now,” Pete groaned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick laughed, falling back onto the bed “go deal with him, I’ll be here when you get back,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete reluctantly climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweatpants “don’t wag at me, I’m mad at you,” he muttered to Hemmingway as he picked him up “let’s go get you breakfast,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,  Pete?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete turned, the squirming dog still in his arms “yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the dim light, he could see Patrick sit up “I like this weird little family we have,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pete chuckled and dropped Hemmingway on the bed in order to kiss Patrick. He didn’t have to say it but he did too. His weird little life was better with Patrick in it.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this chapter took so long! I had a rough week and wanted to make sure that I was happy with how the final chapter turned out!</p><p>Thank you so much for reading! Whether you've been reading since chapter 1 or are binging the whole thing a year after it's written, I really appreciate the time to read it. As always I love comments so please don't hesitate to leave me any thoughts that you have! Thank you all so much!</p><p>I'm going to take a little break from writing until I finish this semester and start my new job but I'll be back in a few weeks! If you want to stay updated you can either follow me on ao3 or on tumblr (lupinswritings). Thank you all again for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! I hope everyone is having a good 2021 so far! Hopefully this is a good way to start things off! Like I said in the notes at the top, I'm not a doctor, I've just been seeing my mom watch Grey's Anatomy for years and I've been inspired. As always, I love comments so let me know what you think of the fic so far in the comments! My tumblr is lupinwritings so you can always reach out to my there too. Thanks again for reading, I can't wait to share more of this fic with you. Have a great 2021!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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